


Boxcutter

by Filthycasual, owlettica



Series: The Dick -n- The Ass [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Almost Caught, Amorality, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Zsasz, Angst, Awkward Boners, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Barbecue, Barebacking, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Close Calls, Come Swallowing, Complicated Relationships, Cutting, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Disco, Dom/sub Undertones, Dress Up, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Family Dinners, Fantasizing, Feelings, Fluff, Frustration, Gay Bar, GorZsasz/Jisz like it rough, Gore, Groping, Gun Violence, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied Gobblepot, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intimidation, Jealousy, Jim making poor choices, Jim’s a bratty sub, Jim’s “Yes” face, Jisz finally gettin’ jizzy, Knife Play, Latex, Leather, Love Bites, M/M, Masturbation, Murder, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Self-Harm, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Tension, Sexually frustrated assassin, Slapping, Smut, Social Awkwardness, Spanking, Stalking, Stuck-up Jim, Surprise Sex, Threats of Violence, Topping from the Bottom, Violence, Voyeurism, Workplace Sex, Zsasz eating, Zsasz legs, Zsasz making poor choices, a complex bouquet of GorZsasz with notes of Gobblepot, bad guy doing bad things, breath play, chapter five’s ending is fairly gruesome, conflict of interest, drunk Zsasz, forceful grabbing, freezy Fries and fiery Firefly with furious Penguin, good guy doing bad things, gotham smut, growing attachment, hilarious Gordlock goodness, hinted gobblepot, implied threats, impromptu no-tell motel sex, macaroni-n-cheese, meet the parents, overdressed and overheated assassin, slippery toiletries, uh oh Zsasz feelings, wardrobe emergency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 104,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14639355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthycasual/pseuds/Filthycasual, https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlettica/pseuds/owlettica
Summary: Detective Jim Gordon is feeling the residual effects of the Tetch Virus. Spurred by dark urges he can't suppress, he finds himself embroiled with the notorious assassin, Victor Zsasz.This fic takes place between Gotham eps 3x22 and 4x01.





	1. Fight Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim Gordon is feeling the residual effects of the Tetch Virus. Spurred by a deep hunger he can't seem to suppress, he prowls the streets of Gotham. Jim wanders dangerous establishments looking for something to satisfy his inner darkness. 
> 
> Victor Zsasz happens upon the detective while scouting out new talent and follows the GCPD’s golden boy.

 

 

Zsasz strides past a few pros and hustlers along a darkened sidewalk. Across the street, a car slows down in search of something to take the edge off. When he rounds the corner into the alley, he’s greeted by the sound of a rolling bottle and someone retching. Nearby, a car with a hand planted on its foggy driver seat window rocks rhythmically.

After the recent threat of the Tetch Virus, Victor and his Girls notice increasing interest in personal and business security. He looks to expand his business and takes a little time to scout out some local talent.

The assassin strides up to the back entrance of what looks like an abandoned warehouse. The guy working the door recognizes him before he walks up. He lifts and talks into his lapel before nodding back at Victor, immediately allowing him entry.

Through the smell of cigarettes and cheap booze, he hears the familiar shouts of people placing bets and hollering for their fighters. He grits his teeth and hurries quickly past to avoid the temptation to bet himself. Victor glances up to a cage and watches a fighter attempt to secure his kicking opponent into a headlock. He idly thinks to himself, _He’s gonna slip outta that in three, two…,_ when the other fighter breaks free.

Zsasz slips past the shouting patrons and heads for the crowded bar. Despite other clamoring customers, the bartender immediately pulls out a bottle of mineral water from the specialty fridge the moment he notices Victor advancing through the crowd. By the time the henchman reaches the bar, the bartender slides the bottle topped with a lime to trade it for Zsasz’s customary twenty dollar bill.

“Anybody interesting tonight?”

The bartender shrugs.

“Nah, just a couple of new boxers fighting their first matches.”

Zsasz nods before leaving with his water to check them out. He ambles through the club, looking up into the rings or the cages taking in the fighters. He notes their tells, scrutinizes their form and listens to their coaches as he casually sips from his bottle.

He eventually saunters to the periphery of one fighting area and arches an eyebrow at a powerful blonde pummeling her smaller red-haired opponent in face. She hasn’t much speed or imagination, but she definitely knows how to land a punch. Almost immediately, the bell sounds concluding the round. The blonde proudly turns to raise her arms at the crowd.

Victor stretches a wry grin when he spies the redhead slowly wipe the blood from her mouth, harden her jaw and take a long, seething stare at her opponent. He knows what’s coming. (The blonde, on the other hand, does not.)

The redhead immediately bolts up from behind and tackles her. The blonde falls face first into the canvas and finds herself assaulted by merciless blows about her neck, ears and head. The redhead even manages a couple of blows to her kidneys, before her coach manages to stop her.

Impressed, Victor pulls down the corners of his mouth and nods as he watches both coach and ref struggle to pull the scrapper off her opponent. The moment he turns to chuckle at the blonde’s screaming coach, he’s surprised to see a familiar face. There, just past the blonde’s coach on the other side of the ring, stands (of all people):

Detective Jim Gordon.  

Victor raises an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth before tilting his head. Jim’s attention is focused entirely on the action in the ring, so he takes full advantage of the opportunity to watch the man without his knowledge.

Victor surmises he’s not there on business based on his attire and the beer in his hand. He’s never once seen the man in casual clothes —only in his customary professional attire: the obligatory suit and tie (sometimes topped with a trench coat). Zsasz finds himself intrigued by this unknown version of Jim. He narrows his eyes and slowly scans down to take in the leather jacket, dark shirt and jeans.

The differences don’t end there. Zsasz is also struck by the detective’s very different body language. Jim’s not demonstrating any of the entitled air or exhibiting any of customary posturing his badge affords him. Zsasz watches as he uncomfortably holds his drink like a prop. The man appears almost guilty as he watches the fighting, occasionally glancing from side to side.

_Well this is different._

Almost immediately, chaos erupts in the ring. The blonde is now off the canvas and a brawl has broken out between her and her opponent as well as their coaches. The bell sounds repeatedly as the redhead starts kicking and biting the blonde.

When Victor returns his attention back to Jim, he no longer sees guilt. It’s now replaced by a flash of something he recognizes in himself. The instant he sees it, he feels the very same thing within him uncoil. Zsasz’s eyes briefly flash before they slowly narrow their focus on Jim. The corners of his mouth slowly begin to curl.

 

 

—>j<—

Jim places the lukewarm beer to his lips and drinks half of the bottle down in three large swallows. He watches with great interest as the redhead gets the upper hand on her opponent, albeit in an underhanded way and automatically forfeiting the fight to her blonde challenger. Their coaches land blows on each other as their fighters continue their bout. The judges ring the bell incessantly while waving their arms at three large bouncers to get their attention.

Jim has been apprehensive to return to the dark underbelly of Gotham, especially now that he is back with the GCPD. He eyes the rowdy people beside him with uneasiness. No one seems to care who he is or they don’t recognize him.

His tense muscles begin to relax. He watches on with a small smile; the fight in the ring begins to escalate.

Ever since he was infected with the Tetch Virus and cured, his mind has been irrevocably altered. He doesn’t want to get examined because he’s gone in to see Fox twice already. Three weeks ago, he had Lucius run another test on his blood. He wanted to ensure he was indeed cured.

The keen and intelligent man is suspicious that he's suffering lasting effects of the virus. Going in a third time would mean he risks being put on psych-eval and possibly losing his badge.

His restlessness and high energy levels are becoming too much to endure. There are times he stays at work covering eighteen hour shifts or longer just to be busy. It does him no good. His mind is constantly clouded with some need he can't seem to satiate, not to mention the whole mess with Lee and Carmine. Both relationships ended as bitterly as expected. Closure isn’t something he was afforded with either Thompkins or Don Falcone.

_What, with me killing her husband who happened to be a Falcone and all._

Jim finishes his beer, struggling with bitter thoughts that begin to pervade his mind.

In order to find solace, Jim returns to the dives and shitholes he used to frequent as a bounty hunter. He finds watching mindless violence seems to quench an immediate need. Still, something else lies in the core of him. Some darkness seems to prod him to be more involved. To rage. To get lost in some carnal thing.

He watches as the fight ring erupts in chaos; friends of the opponents add their two cents. He wishes to enter and take on all of the challengers in Gotham.

The roar of the crowd reaches a new decibel. He gets shoved as drunk and horny onlookers cheer wildly. The redhead grabs the thin cloth of the blonde’s shirt and forcibly rips it off.

The redhead struts as she twirls the garment in her claws above her head. It earns her a headlock from behind by the bare-chested fighter. She tosses the shirt over the crowds as she deals with her attacker.

Jim watches as the torn shirt sails over to eager hands on the other side of the ring. His gaze then falls on a familiar face:

Victor Zsasz.

The assassin isn’t looking at him but at the bare pert breasts in the ring.

Jim steps back from the edge of the ring and silently mouths.

_Zsasz_

 

 Victor hasn’t seen him, or so he hopes.

The crowd behind the distracted hitman shoves into him as three drunk men wrestle for the garment. He grins as Zsasz gets smashed onto the edge of the ring platform. He wants to stay and see what Victor does. He’s sure the nonplussed man is about to bust out both of his guns and punish all for their carelessness.

Jim opts to make himself disappear while the crowds provide good cover. He has other places to be and he doesn’t want to suffer a gunshot wound so early in the night.

A fight rages on in the bar as bouncers, fighters, and patrons thrash away. He zips up his black leather jacket and quickly makes for the exit.

Jim garnered information on a human trade market not far away while he was in the bar. Ever since Firefly torched most of the large suppliers, smaller outfits have popped up. All of them work on the outskirts of Oswald’s territories to keep off Bridgit’s radar.

He smiles. He was hoping for a fight. Even though he can get his jollies off anywhere, he wants it to be for something meaningful, or so he keeps trying to convince himself. He would’ve been just as happy jumping into the fray back inside the establishment.

He tightens his jaw and hangs his head as he walks down the alley. He's second guessing his reasons for coming out in the first place. He needs a release but is unsure in what form. For the past few days he haunted many dark and dangerous establishments.

Always just looking.

Always just waiting.

Committing acts of lawless behavior still disturbs him. Jim scoffs at himself.

 _Who are you kidding, Jim? You want to commit crimes. You want the thrill that being a cop just doesn’t give you anymore._ _You want the thrill of a secret life while being a shining example of law and order._

Jim swallows hard, his mouth dry and sticky as he tries to silence his mind.

He looks back into the alley where he came from; he's sure he heard footsteps. He pauses and waits a few seconds ensuring no one is behind him. Satisfied he is alone, he turns down a dark street and continues his path. He welcomes any crackhead, thug or mugger to test him. He can feel the need to inflict harm grow.

He nears another alley and out of the corner of his eye he sees the glint of a blade. His right hand shoots out and grabs the wrist of the wielder as he spins his body around to face his attacker. His experience with hand-to-hand combat rivals most in Gotham.

He cranks the attacker’s hand over his own wrist. Jim feels the tension of his own muscles, hard and uncoiling with repressed energy.

He then stomps the heel of his boot down hard onto the top of the attacker’s foot. The man roars in pain dropping the knife which clanks and skids a short distance away from them. Jim lands a swift knee to the man’s groin. He lands a right hook to the offered face when the assailant doubles over to clutch his crushed crotch.

The man falls like a ragdoll backwards atop a pile of garbage. His stiff arms slowly sink back to his crumpled body. Jim catches his breath as he eyes the fallen attacker. The fight is over in seconds. It feels good to finally get a small tussle out of the way; his body has been so tightly wound. It doesn’t satisfy him, though. It was all too easy and ended too quickly for his liking.

The knife catches his attention; it lay not far from his feet. His eyes linger on the discarded weapon for a few moments. He wants it; needs it. He finds himself bending down to retrieve it as if in some trance. He eyes his attacker still on top of the garbage heap then returns his attention to the butterfly knife in his hand.

_Do it. The scumbag deserved what he got. Do it. Sink that knife into him._

He sways and brings his left hand over his forehead. His whole body vibrates with power not unlike when he was caught in the grasp of the Tetch virus. He stops swaying and drops his hand from his head.

He hears the man groan but he remains where he fell. Jim closes the blade and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. He presses onward to his destination and hopefully to a better fight.

 

—>z<—

Victor is so intrigued by this version of Jim Gordon (and _here_ of all places), he doesn’t even register the escalating violence in the ring.

Victor _knows_ that look on Jim’s face. He’s intimately familiar with the desire to conquer and the satisfaction that comes from it:

Breaking.

Crushing.

Destroying.

It’s that desire and his primitive brain that drives him and his approach to the world. Whenever he encounters anything, Zsasz need only know:

 _Can_ _I eat it, fuck it or kill it?_

If he can’t, Victor shrugs it off —unless it can make him money or _interests_ him.

Recognizing the twin desire in Jim only stokes Victor’s hunger. The stirring predator within begins pacing.

It isn’t until he feels the shove from behind and notices his water spilling into the ring that he snaps out of it. He scowls at his wasted drink.

He briefly considers breaking the bottle to use for a weapon on the assholes who pushed him, before suddenly remembering who stands across the ring. Zsasz also knows he’s one of very few people (if not the only person) who actually drinks the stuff. He stops momentarily to look up at Jim. As he does, he notices the man zipping up his jacket in preparation to leave.

The moment Jim turns, Victor flings the bottle across the ring with one hand and quickly unsheathes his combat knife with the other. He rapidly spins around and discovers the first drunken already stumbling forward, having lost his footing in the tussle.

As the man falls, Victor drives the blade upward to stab him in the jugular. He quickly retracts it and turns his attention to the second man. He moves so quickly, his next victim barely registers what’s happening. Zsasz narrows the gap between them, looks up into the man’s widening eyes and rapidly thrusts upward twice beneath his ribs (aiming for his liver).

As the second man’s legs grow slack and he begins to fall, Victor looks up to find the third man proudly standing with the blonde’s shirt. Zsasz hardens his jaw and tilts his head as he widens his eyes to glare at the man.

The man locks eyes with the assassin. His face goes from triumphant to shocked when he looks down at his bloody blade and the fallen men, jaw growing slack. In a panic, he throws the shirt back up in the air and turns to run for the exit as the crowd yells and begins chasing the shirt. Before Zsasz acts, he takes a quick glance to search for Jim who appears to be heading for the same exit.

Victor quickly catches up to the frightened man struggling to escape. He strategically aims for the bowel, quickly stabbing the man and twisting the third time. His victim grabs at his back and falls to his knees. Zsasz leaves him to be trampled by the crowd still fighting for the shirt. He coolly wipes down his blade before he sheathes it and slips through the crowd to follow Jim out the door.

Despite the crowd, Zsasz quickly reaches the exit. Once he gets out the door, he spies Jim striding up the alleyway. Victor immediately begins tailing his quarry.

When he reaches the corner Jim rounded, he stops momentarily at the sound of a tussle. He peers around the corner and finds Jim standing before a man falling into a pile of garbage bags. Zsasz’s mouth slightly pulls up as he watches Jim bend to reach for a fallen knife. The detective looks down to consider the blade before pocketing it. Zsasz slowly shakes his head and smiles before narrowing his eyes and whispering to himself.

“Naughty boy, Jim.”

As Jim heads further down the alley to the street, Zsasz strides up to the fallen man now struggling to get up. The moment he sees Victor approach, he attempts to right himself, pointing towards Jim.

“Can you help me? That man just attacked me.”

The assassin squats down, reaches for the man and shushes him with a soothing voice.

“Of course I can.”

Once Victor closes in, he immediately reaches around the man’s head and shoulders to adroitly snap his neck.

As the man’s body slumps again, Victor tamps down the stirring desire to record the evening’s kills as he rises.

_There will be plenty of time for that._

He’s far more interested in following the detective.

 

—>j<—

Jim halts at an old parking lot that belongs to an abandoned paper mill. Just beyond the mill lies what officers at the GCPD call “Bum City”. The small makeshift town of cardboard, fire barrels, and abandoned cars sits under a bridge. He notices a gathering of people adjacent to the homeless group. He scurries over to some pallets and dumpsters behind the building and crouches behind them. He rummages in his jacket and fishes out a small pair of night vision binoculars.

He sweeps the area with his binoculars and sees two individuals standing in front of a van. One of the men opens the side door to the van they’re standing in front of. He reveals three women sitting side by side on the floor of the vehicle. Jim grits his teeth as one of the men points to the smallest girl. The women clutch and huddle together the best they can with bound hands and feet.

Jim notices that, in addition to the two men at the van, there are another two keeping vigil. They keep a tight perimeter by Bum City. He looks around and sees two cars in the parking lot to take cover by. He hustles low. Even though the night and his all black attire offer him invisibility, he takes no chances.

He unzips his jacket open and reaches inside to his holster. He pulls out a gun, not his registered weapon from the GCPD. He holds his 1911 Colt Commander in his right hand as his left hand digs into an inside pocket, producing a silencer. He locks the cam to the nozzle and regards the ensemble with solemn resolve for a few seconds.

He hears two men talking, their footsteps getting louder. The two sentries walk close to the car but stop ten feet away. Jim peeps around the front end of the parked car he’s hiding behind. The two men by the van are actively negotiating and oblivious to their surroundings. Jim stands up and carefully aims at the two sentries. The both of them too distracted in conversation and their cigarettes to see a shadow in the dark. Jim pulls the trigger twice getting both of them in the head. The sound of the silent shots are nothing more than a couple of whispers in the night.

He runs towards the supplier and buyer while their backs are turned away from him, then slows and stops. He aims and shoots, hitting one of the men in the neck. The man wails and falls to the ground clutching at his torn, weeping flesh. The supplier quickly runs into Bum City as Jim unleashes a couple of rounds at him.

“Damn!”, Jim growls as he runs towards the van. He fishes out another round of bullets and reloads his gun.

The buyer is still thrashing on the ground in a pool of his blood. Jim shoots him in the head and brings the nozzle of the gun up to aim towards the rabble of homeless people scurrying for cover.

He feels his phone vibrate in his pants pocket. He sighs irritably. He reaches for the phone while still looking for the last escaped target.

The caller ID flashes: “ _Harvey”._ He shoves the phone back into his pocket and slowly walks backwards to the van door, eyes still scanning for his escaped prey. He opens the sliding door.

“You ladies okay? I’m going to get you out of here and to safety.”

The women respond with loud sobbing. Jim quickly looks them over to assess if he should take them to the hospital first or to the precinct. The three women appear to be fine other than being bound to the floor of the van with rope.

Jim hustles inside the vehicle and slams the sliding door shut. He sees the keys in the ignition and sighs with relief. He quickly hops in the seat. That’s when two gunshots ring through the cab. He turns the key and slams the van in drive; loud peals of rubber echo under the bridge.

“Hang on ladies, it’s going to get bumpy!”, Jim yells as he maneuvers the van through the parking lot.

A hail fire of continuous gunshots riddle the van, but nothing is stopping them now. He blasts through the alleys to get to a main road. Once on the road, he looks back at the three women silently crying and leaning on each other.

“I’m going to drop you three off in front of the GCPD. Go inside and let them know what happened to you. Hopefully, they can get you back to your families.”

The drive back to downtown is about fifteen minutes. Even though he can pull over and free the women, he doesn't want them to panic and attack him. He'll untie them when they were near the precinct.

Jim stops the van in an alley just around the corner from the main doors to the GCPD.

“Okay, once you are out of the van, head down the alley and turn left. The doors to the police station are right there. Go in and they will take care of you.”

The three women run down the alley and disappear around the corner. Jim quickly drives the van away and pulls out his phone to return Harvey’s call.

“Jim! Where the heck have you been?!”

“Sorry Captain, I was in a loud bar and didn’t hear the phone.”

“Are you drunk?”

Jim busts out laughing and responds.

“Maybe just a little. Need me at a call?”

“No, you’ve been pulling long hours as it is. I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink with me. Unless you’re with a number and have your evening already planned.”

Harvey ends with a lecherous chuckle.

Gordon laughs. He never tires of Harvey’s insistence on being a dirty old man.

“I’m not that lucky. Meet me at our usual bar.”

“Ha! Your night has just got better my unfortunate friend. You’ll have me all to yourself. Don’t get grabby though. I’m putting my foot down.”

“We’ll see about that. See you soon.”

Jim drives the van a couple of blocks from their hangout and deposits the vehicle in a parking lot. He leaves the keys in the van and hurries over to the bar.

_A night spent getting sloshed with Harvey is a perfect ending._

Jim’s mood is one of elation and jubilation. After giving into his darkness, he feels his frustration and tension disappear. It is more than likely a temporary fix, but it was a good start.

He thought he would feel remorse for killing those men, but he feels nothing for them. Nothing at all. He only feels a calm. However, deep down there is something still hungry.

Still _wanting_.

He knows this is a brief reprieve from his urges. However temporary his current high, he plans to celebrate. He intends to get sloppy drunk with Harvey and in the morning stumble out of a cab to his apartment.

Jim’s face dons an uncharacteristically large smile as he steps into the familiar bar.

 

—>z<—

The assassin follows the detective through the shanty town. He knows this area. It’s where he found one of his best Girls. She somehow managed to escape a trafficker, but the man ultimately caught up with her. Zsasz watched as she fought tooth and nail despite being outsized and outmatched. Impressed with her ferocity, he pulled one of his Sig Sauer GSRs from his holster and shot the man in the head.

She flinched at the sound of the blast and incredulously watched the man who had just been dragging her fall lifelessly to the ground. She then turned a wary, wide-eyed look at Victor. After Zsasz reholstered his Sig and set to walk away, she spat on her dead captor and began following him.

The assassin clothed, fed, housed and trained Tsunade. Unlike some of his other Girls, Victor never once fucked the beauty, not that she didn’t offer herself in an attempt to repay him. She worked tirelessly for him and eventually became one of his very best —right up until the day she took a bullet for him.

—

By the time Victor catches up to Jim, he spies the detective hiding behind some pallets to scout out something. Zsasz hangs back until he watches the man reach into his jacket for a weapon and…

 _A_ _silencer?_

Zsasz tilts his head and tsks.

_What are you up to, Jim?_

Zsasz crinkles a brow and tilts his head, pulling up a corner of his mouth. He waits for Jim to advance further before making his way to the detective’s previous cover. Victor watches him scurry behind a vehicle before taking out two men, then injuring and ultimately killing a third.

Jim loses the fourth man. But, as fate would have it, his target runs right into the very area where Zsasz silently watches from the shadows. When the trafficker thinks he’s safe, he’s dismayed to discover Jim climbing into the van and escaping with his merchandise. The man futilely begins firing off rounds.

After Jim peals off, the man reaches up with a hand and grabs his hair.

“FUCK!”

The bested man curses and paces with his weapon in hand. He pulls his phone from his pocket and makes a call. As he speaks to a business associate, he rubs his forehead with the back of the hand still holding the weapon. Zsasz silently emerges from the shadows and prowls up behind him.

The man concludes his call and snaps his phone shut. Before he even registers what’s happening, Victor takes control of his weapon and discharges a single bullet into the side of his head. The man’s body crumples. The assassin leaves the spent weapon with his corpse and strides off.

Victor returns back to his Yamaha V-Max and makes his way to his place in the city. The dark thing inside him still paces restlessly. At long last, he smiles down at the boxcutter he pulls out to record the evening’s kills.

Zsasz slides out the blade with his thumb and he feels the low, deep pang of anticipation. He reaches up to a bare patch of flesh along his bicep.

He closes his eyes, aching for the sweet pierce of the blade. His brow softens and mouth slightly opens as it breaks his skin and sinks in, a quiet sigh escaping. He counts as he slowly carves.

“Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy…”

He savors the longer drag of the diagonal cut he crosses to mark a completed set.

“Seventy-one, seventy-two.”

As he looks down at the blood trail falling from his fresh cuts, the dark thing inside begins to settle and coil back up again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filthycasual and I’ve had such a great time with this collab. I’m just gonna lay all the creativity, fun and genius of it at her feet. 
> 
> We have so much more great stuff in the works for y’all: sex, violence and all that jizz, Jisz —I mean “jazz”. Needless to say the tags are gonna getta lot more smutty, so be prepared for that. Yeah... that. 
> 
> Filthycasual, thanks for being the Jim to my Victor, for all the great art, for getting me outta my comfort zone and putting up with my neurotic &ss. You are the wind beneath my wings.
> 
>  
> 
> This has been hands down the BEST writing project I have ever been apart of. Owl has been a beacon in the the fog of my mind. I tend to get carried away and this girl sets me on course. Also she is FUN AS HELL!! Her Zsasz parts always blow me away. I've been snooping on her during the entire project because I'm riveted by her direction with Victor. It's like crack!
> 
> Thanks for reading and if you stick around things progressively get juicier! SMUTTIER! PORNIER! Promise! The story is all typed out and we are going to pump out chapters every Monday and Friday (provided real life doesn't get in the way.)


	2. Where Were We?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zsasz realigns himself with Penguin. While out running errands for the former mayor, Victor has another chance encounter with Jim Gordon. Unable to resist the temptation, he takes advantage of the opportunity to get closer to the detective. 
> 
> Jim finds his new interest in the unflappable killer hard to ignore.

 

 

—>j<—

The night progresses to morning swifter than Jim and Harvey realize. Jim calls two cabs for Harvey and himself. His best friend’s balance barely holds as he walks across to the doors of the bar. Jim’s equilibrium isn’t any better.

He holds the large burly man up as they wait for their cabs, both of them swaying and fumbling over each other.

Hearty chuckles bellow throughout the empty street as they tell stories of past relationships and childhood memories. A yellow cab rolls up quicker than they realize.

“You take the first cab, Harv. You’re way drunker than me. Will you be able to make it to your door? There’s a few flights of stairs to negotiate and you’re obliterated.”

Jim swipes at the handle a few times and finally pulls the cab door open.

“ _Me?_ You can’t even open the damn car door! Hey, I’m fine but call me around ev-ev-evenin' time. Ya know, just in case I’m on the floor of the lobby!”

Harvey boops Jim on the nose and laughs.

“Sure thing! If I’m awake by then.”

The detective carefully maneuvers his boss into the cab and rolls him in before closing the door.

His cab arrives a minute after Harvey’s leaves. He manages to tell the driver his address before he closes his eyes and naps in the backseat. Once home, he staggers to his front door and rummages for his keys in his jacket pocket.

He sways and leans on the front door as he bumbles in his coat. The door opens and he falls in, smacking the ground on his back. He laughs at his clumsiness. He’s far too inebriated to care about the fact he leaves his door unlocked.

He wobbles to his feet and slams the door shut. He makes his way to his bedroom and plops down on the mattress without so much a care to take off his clothes or shoes. He quickly slips into oblivion.

He wakes around three in the afternoon, funky and dehydrated. Something (actually _many_ things) are poking into his ribs and chest. He frowns as he rolls onto his back. He unzips his jacket and takes out the hard items causing him discomfort: a butterfly knife, his unregistered handgun with silencer, three magazines of ammunition, and his night vision binoculars.

He sighs and runs his hands down his face; a small chuckle momentarily escapes his lips. He scoots to the edge of the bed and sits up. His right hand clasps his forehead.

Last night was a blur, but he remembers giving into his murderous urges. He also remembers seeing Zsasz at the fight bar. He's surprised that the infamous and deadly enforcer was mingling amongst the seedy rabble of Gotham. He always figured the hitman was too high class and elite for such things.

Jim shakes his head and closes his eyes. He runs his left hand through his hair and leans his elbows on his knees. He hangs his head as his thoughts linger on the assassin. He isn't sure if Victor saw him. If he had been standing ringside across from him, then Victor is sure to have.

Jim feels a bit of jealousy for Zsasz. He is unhindered, carefree and seemingly content with his life. The few times Jim's had run-ins with him, the man was practically bursting with joy to do him harm. Zsasz had no vendetta against him, but he took his job, and killing, very seriously.

Jim has always wondered why the assassin felt the need to warn him of the hit that Carmine put out on him. It's just another mystery that makes Victor a strange man.

A long sigh exits out of his nose. He makes his way to his bathroom for a hot shower. He slowly strips out of his evening attire and lets the garments fall where they may. He shuffles into the shower stall and lets the hot water beat down on him. His thoughts wander to the two sexy fighters from last night.

His cock stirs with the thought of having both the blonde and redhead in bed with him. He always experiences an exhilarating high when control, power and strength are involved. He secretly covets these qualities in other people. Jim feels the craving of something different stirring deep within him. He wanted to make the two warrior women submit to him. Jim grasps his awakening cock and tosses himself slowly. His thoughts bring up the ample breasts on the blonde as he strokes himself harder and faster.

Jim’s in the full throes of arousal when his mind brings up Victor. His hand slows its strokes; he feels a lump in his throat. He swallows hard to clear the imaginary obstruction.

He recalls the way the hitman looked that night. Victor was dressed all in black with a deep burgundy scarf around his neck. The killer’s pale skin practically glows with a soft halo when he’s adorned in black. His tailored attire had a way of accentuating his tall, well-shaped body.

Jim moans as his mind continues with the assessment. Many times in the past, he’s found himself entranced by Victor’s deep dark eyes. Zsasz has the uncanny ability to melt the iron resolve of any foe with just a look. Jim can admit that Victor is undeniably sexy and his status as a deadly enforcer only adds to his allure. He loves power and Victor radiates it.

His hard-on aches as he brings Victor’s lips to mind.

_I bet he gives great head with those thick lips!_

Jim envisions the hairless and smooth assassin working his way down to his cock. Victor’s hands grasp his buttocks firmly as he fills his mouth and throat with Jim’s length. He starts bucking into his hand as he imagines Victor sucking and licking on him. He moans, his hand coating with silky precum as the vision continues.

He imagines the assassin standing up from his diligent task to grasp both of their cocks in one hand. Jim envisions Victor leaning in and sinking his sharp teeth into his neck. The solid and forceful killer strokes both their cocks in unison. Jim groans loudly as he strokes himself faster.

“Fuck, Zsasz!”

“ _You’ve been a bad boy, Jim. Do you want what I have? All you have to do is take it.”_

Jim gasps as his release nears. His body quakes as the specter of Zsasz in his mind shoves him against the wall and speeds up stroking them both. Jim leans on the shower stall wall and gives himself quick short strokes. He imagines their lips and tongues doing battle as the bountiful explosion of their semen releases into the assassin’s hand.

Jim groans as he pumps himself empty. He takes a moment to collect himself, then shoves his face into the hot stream of water. The image of Zsasz’s dark eyes and smirk vividly in his mind. He shudders.

“What the _fuck?_ ”

 

—>z<—

In a city like Gotham, there is never any shortage of people interested in Zsasz’s special skill set. Thing is, his specialty does not come cheap. Neither Victor nor his Girls find much demand for such contracts in recent days. Because word is still getting out about his expanding security services, he takes advantage of his downtime to outreach and inform potential customers about his more “mainstream” services.

The following day, Victor cruises by what used to be Sirens to determine if anyone has taken over the space. Clubs are always interested in hiring security. As luck would have it, he sees a refrigeration services van parked outside the establishment. He decides to stop by for a look.

He strides up and finds the front entrance locked. As he makes his way around back, he hears sounds of a skirmish. When he peeks around the corner, he sees a dead man who has been stabbed multiple times. Above him stands a familiar face struggling to drag his body from the view of any potential onlookers.

 _Penguin_.

As usual, he’s dressed to the nines. His head is turned in the opposite direction towards the service entrance. As the kingpin struggles with the body, he hollers towards the building —loudly enough to be heard, but quietly enough to avoid arousing suspicion.

“Victor!”

Zsasz silently strides up behind Penguin from the opposite direction.

“Need a hand?”

With lightning speed, Oswald drops the man’s body, pulls a stiletto and lunges toward the assassin. Zsasz smiles down at the flashing pale eyes and bared teeth, raising his hands in mock surrender.

The kingpin’s darkened expression changes from menacing to surprised to perplexed.

“Victor. What are _you_ doing here?”

He tilts his head.

“You just called me.”

Penguin furrows his brow before shaking his head and letting out an amused chuckle.

“Actually no, Zsasz. I was calling _him_.”

Penguin turns and points a thumb towards the service entrance. Zsasz regards the man ambling up. The platinum-haired looker stands a bit taller than he does and wears an impressive body suit that downplays his physique. Still, it's clear by his build, the man takes very good care of himself. The head turner replies coolly.

“The current refrigeration system is insufficient to meet our needs. It’s going to require work and...”

He looks down to the corpse at Penguin’s feet.

“...you just killed our refrigeration specialist.”

“Victor, I admit I may have been somewhat rash. However, I’m confident we can find someone more amenable to our special requirements —and far less _‘connected’_ to our competitors.”

Zsasz listens as Penguin addresses the other man before shrugging, squatting down and reaching beneath the dead man’s arms to drag him closer to the building. Penguin looks back and addresses him.

“Victor, I find it most fortuitous that you’re here. I was planning on calling you because I have some projects in the works that will require your services. However, I’m not quite at the stage where I need you.”

Zsasz raises an eyebrow and glances down towards the corpse before quipping.

“You sure about that?”

Penguin dismisses Victor’s cheeky response. (The man, after all, _did_ have a point.)

“Yes, Victor. I am quite sure. At the risk of sounding ungrateful for your assistance, exactly how much is this going to cost?”

He shrugs and coolly replies, “You lookin’ to move back in here?”

“Amongst other things. But to answer your question, yes. I am.”

Victor shrugs before replying, “Gimme the job and we'll call it a free product demonstration.”

“Victor, I’m well acquainted with the caliber of work, but I’d be foolish to refuse such a generous offer.”

Penguin tilts his head and waves toward the dead man.

“Please. Carry on.”

Victor drops the corpse. The man’s head hits the asphalt with a loud thwack. The assassin squats down and reaches into the dead man’s pocket for keys to the van. He stands and places a call to one of his men as he strides to the front of the building.

Not long after, Victor backs the van into the alley. He hops out and opens its back doors before striding towards the corpse. The white-haired stunner with ice blue eyes squats to assist him with tossing the body into the back. Victor also helps the looker haul out various refrigeration supplies, tools and equipment.

Zsasz hops into the cab and rummages through the van. He finds a tarp and uses it to cover up the body before making another call. He hops out the back and closes the van doors.

“Lem? Victor. Hey, who does your refrigeration? Uh huh. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He closes his phone and turns to Penguin.

“I’ve got someone for your refrigeration. He’ll be here in an hour.”

He points over a shoulder to the van.

“I’ll take care of this and catch up with you later.”

Zsasz returns to the driver’s seat and drives off with the corpse. He heads for a kosher deli, parks in the alley and enters through the service entrance to meet with Lemuel and Jose, their refrigeration guy, who's just wrapping up his service call. Zsasz gives Jose the lowdown about his next impromptu client.

As Victor concludes his conversation with Jose, his phone rings in his pocket. It’s Penguin.

“Victor, I’ve given some thought to our earlier conversation. I _would_ like to enlist some of your personnel for security. I know this is rather short notice, but would it be possible to receive a small security detail at the club tonight? We can discuss terms tomorrow evening.”

“Done.”

Victor glances at the clock on the wall.

“You’ll have four in two hours.”

“Perfect.”

Victor calls one of his Girls to coordinate the security detail for Penguin. After concluding his call, he looks out the circular window into the busy restaurant. About half the tables have customers and a few require bussing. There's a long line at the counter. Among the customers waiting in line, stands Jim Gordon reading the daily specials and various options on the chalkboard. Zsasz’s face stretches a wide grin.

He briefly considers the corpse in the van requiring his attention, before he decides he’d much rather have some fun —and maybe even grab a bite in the process.

“Lem, you’d better get out there and help Seth. It’s getting busy out there.”

Victor follows Lemuel out into the busy restaurant. He uses the restaurant noise and activity to get closer to the detective without arousing his suspicion. Jim now has his nose in a menu. Victor prowls up quietly beside him, before leaning in close to his face over a shoulder. He reaches over to point out a selection on the menu and flashes his teeth.

“If I were you, I’d definitely try the pastrami.”

 

—>j<—

Jim’s eyes scan the menu but he’s unable to focus on the list. He’s so hungry that anything will do really. He wishes there were more employees to man the counter; the wait is excruciating. He brings his wrist up in a flick to view the time on his watch; he curtly huffs. He’s been waiting for thirty minutes. He dives back into the extensive deli list in his hand to distract himself.

Harvey called earlier requesting he bring back lunch for him. Bullock is currently caught in a three way phone call with the mayor and the commissioner. Jim shakes his head, thankful he isn’t the captain. He smirks when he recalls how gruff Harvey sounded on the phone.

“ _Bring some food! If I havta' deal with stuffed bureaucrats, I'll need a stuffed deli sandwich!”_

Jim’s mouth slants into a smile. Harvey’s constant and vehement disdain for the role of “acting captain” is nothing more than hot air. Bullock loves locking horns with the commissioner; confrontation is his wheelhouse.

Jim can always see the twinkle in Harvey’s eye when he counters his angry boss with, “ _Then fire me!”_

Harvey, to date, has used that statement at least once a day.

Jim’s thoughts are cut short as an arm and a gloved hand come over his shoulder to point on the menu. He can feel the intrusion of hot moist breath in his ear as a familiar voice speaks.

“If I were you, I’d definitely try the pastrami.”

Jim reacts to the sudden meeting by jumping back from the all too intimate proximity. As Jim spins around mid-air, he sees that it’s Victor and he’s donning an impossibly large smile. It makes him stagger backwards in surprise.

Jim’s reaction causes him to bump into an old lady standing nearby. She quickly turns on him. Her grip on her purse straps tightens as wrinkled fingers unlatch it from her shoulder. She swings her large and extremely heavy weapon at him. The purse connects to his shoulder, sending Jim stumbling back towards Zsasz. The detective catches himself before falling into Victor who’s sporting a shark-like smile.

“Watch it, you ass!”

Jim offers the woman a quick apology. He tightens his jaw and turns his reluctant attention to Victor.

“Zsasz.”

Jim sighs with a long exhale through his nose. He arches an eyebrow and averts his gaze from those black eyes.

He looks around at the customers, wary Zsasz will start a fight amongst a crowded deli.

Victor is utterly delighted to see the detective. He smiles broadly and cheerily waves.

“Hi, Jim.”

Jim crosses his arms and eyes the smiling man. A flash of what he did in the shower enters his mind. He feels dirty that Zsasz was the star of his “spank tank” material.

His eyes quickly look away to the counter.

Zsasz traipses around to face Jim, leaning to one side and looking down at the detective with genuine interest. The assassin affably nods his head as he addresses the detective.

“So. Fancy meeting you here.”

Jim’s body stiffens as he glares at his unwelcome visitor.

“What do you want, Zsasz? It’s not like you to approach me unless it’s to tell me there is a hit out on me.”

Zsasz can’t help but smile at the remark, briefly recalling the time he broke into Jim’s apartment.

_This is gonna be fun._

The assassin takes a step back and raises his hands in mock surrender before chuckling.

“Relax, Jim. I come in peace. I thought we were friends.” He shrugs. “Besides, no one’s ordered a hit.”

Victor places a hand up to his chest and holds up the other, smiling innocently.

“Promise.”

“Friends? Ah ha. _Sure._  Just a _friendly_ meeting in a crowded deli.”

Jim looks at his watch and impatiently peers down the stagnant line.

His eyes quickly scan Victor’s face, but they linger once he reaches _those_ lips. He can feel his blood quicken.

Zsasz regards the smaller man, momentarily forgetting himself. When he notices how Jim casts his eyes down to his mouth, he feels the stir.

Victor takes in the detective’s perfectly-coiffed hair: the parted businessman cut and high taper. He gazes down at Jim’s blue eyes, his hangdog face with the long nose, _that jawline_ he’s clenching and _that chin._

When Zsasz returns to his senses, he raises his eyebrows, pulls down the corners of his mouth and casually shrugs.

“Well, yeah. What’s the matter, Jim? You in a hurry or somethin’?”

Jim bristles at how utterly benign Victor is acting. Jim wants to haul ass out of there but he can’t show up without Harvey’s food.

A counter worker approaches and asks him for his order. Jim smiles and requests two large, hot meatball subs.

He glances at Zsasz, waiting for him to get to the point. He finds his mind replaying his morning stress relief in the shower. His face starts to burn with embarrassment but also excitement.

Victor turns to Lemuel, who holds his hand up and shakes his head before he replies.

“Don’t tell me, Victor. The usual: pastrami on rye with no pickle.”

Zsasz smiles and reaches into his pocket for money. He forks over a c-note and nods towards Jim.

“Exactly. Oh, Lemuel, please allow me to pay for the detective’s order —and this fine lady’s.”

Zsasz motions to and smiles at the lady Jim bumped into. Lem takes the money and turns to the old woman while Zsasz returns his attention to the detective.

“Now. Where were we?”

Jim smiles and digs into his pocket then calls Lemuel over. The man looks apprehensively at Zsasz then at Jim.

Jim states firmly.

“I can pay for my own.”

Jim lays down two twenties. He places his hands on his hips and glares at Victor.

The old woman grumbles at Jim.

“Well, if that bald gentleman is going to pay why don’t you let him, you _ass_?”

The detective smiles in frustration and shakes his head. He flashes his eyes at Zsasz and huffs out.

“Where were we? _Nowhere._ ”

Zsasz ignores Jim’s comment. Instead, he turns to the old woman and beams at her.

“Exactly, ma’am. Besides, I’m more than happy to show my appreciation for _‘Gotham’s finest’._ ”

Victor reaches an arm around Jim and pulls him in like an old chum.

There are many things wrong with this entire scene. Jim is having a hard time processing standing in line at a deli with Zsasz, much less his arm around him. Victor’s words feel like a slap across his face, especially after what he did last night.

 

_Zsasz saw me. Fuck my life. He saw me._

Jim turns his face to look Victor in the eyes, unbothered by how close they are. He smiles; he can feel the familiar darkness stir deep within him. He wants to do many things to the assassin. He wants to break him and smash him under his foot. But above all else, he wants to explore his new obsession for him.

Jim scoffs and whispers.

“You saw me. Didn’t you?”

Victor smiles down at the detective. He pulls him in again, leaning in a little.

“Well of course I saw you, Jim. Just now. Why else would I come up?”

Zsasz lingers for a moment to catch a whiff of Jim’s aftershave and a hint of his personal scent.

Jim turns his head into Zsasz ever so slightly. He catches the scent of leather, gun oil, and sweat. He closes his eyes for a second; Victor’s scent fills his mind with memories of the shower daydream. He quickly pushes Victor away.

“Here you go detective, two meatball subs.”, chirps Lemuel.

Jim slides the two twenties closer to the deli worker. “Please keep the change.”

He gives Zsasz a long side glance as he handles the bagged subs. He’s sure the assassin is being deliberately obtuse with him.

Victor briefly narrows his gaze at Jim’s long glance. He runs a hand on his chest ghosting the area where Jim pushed him before reaching to grab his forearm.

“What’s your hurry, Jim?”

The detective stares at the iron grip on his arm. He takes a step into Zsasz and hisses under his breath.

“Don’t you _ever_ lay your hands on me again. Unless you’re looking for a _fight._ ”

Jim rips Zsasz’s grip off of him with a hard jerk. He smiles at the pouty assassin while sidestepping around him towards the exit.

Victor slowly smiles and narrows his eyes at the detective’s posturing. He quirks an eyebrow.

_Was that…  a smile?_

He cheerily drawls after the exiting man.

“See ya around… _detective._ ”

Zsasz casually shrugs and turns to the lady behind him.

“Guess he was in a hurry. Would you like to eat with me?”

The old woman smiles and nods.

Jim gets into his car in a hurry. The wait in the deli felt like an eternity. Victor toying with him only added to his frustration. He desperately wants to play with him but duty calls. Literally. His phone starts ringing; it’s Harvey.

“Jim! I swear you had better gotten into an accident to keep me waiting like this! Also if you did, my sub better be intact. I’m serious! Where are you?”

“Sorry, Harv. The deli was packed. From the sounds of it, your day must be peachy.”

Jim can hear the clank of glass on glass. Harvey used to be a heavy drinker but tailored down his consumption since becoming captain. Today, it sounds like he needs a relaxer.

“Yeah, I’ll wait till you arrive to let you in on this _hair-brained_ command from above.”

Jim ends the call and peers over at the deli windows. He notices Zsasz watching him while he eats his meal. Victor makes a point of making sure Jim sees him.

_What the hell was that all about? He’s sure to have seen me at the fight club last night. God. He smelled exactly how I imagined he would._

His body flushes with heat. Jim takes a deep breath and brings down the visor to retrieve his sunglasses.

The detective can feel the restless energy in him build again. He is sure to go explore Gotham again after work.

Jim dons his shades and pulls away from the deli parking spot.

Later, if and when the opportunity presents itself, he would like to humor Victor. But right now, he has work to do.

 

—>z<—

Victor takes a little time to appreciate Jim’s swagger as he walks out of the deli. This is the Jim Gordon he’s most familiar with: gruff, buttoned-up and all business. It's a stark contrast to the version he saw the previous night.

_With any luck, he’ll get to see the other version again._

After Lem returns with his pastrami on rye and the lady’s lox and bagel, Victor warmly grins at the woman and selects a table for them by the window. He pulls out her chair, seating her where he can get a better look at Jim (now taking a call in his sedan). He watches the detective turn back to look before donning his shades and putting his car into gear. Victor winks, smiles and waves at him before he turns to drive off.

Zsasz enjoys a nice meal with Judith. The widow informs him about her children and grandchildren, and even offers to fix him up with someone nice. Afterwards, she thanks him with a hug and a pinch on the cheek before setting off to enjoy the rest of her evening.

He glances down at a text from one of his men now waiting out back to help take care of that thing for Penguin. They get rid of the body and take the van to a chop shop.

Afterwards, he appraises his three most trusted women (Tasha, Xochitl and Astrid) about the upcoming gig. They discuss available security staff in preparation for his upcoming meeting with Penguin as they clean guns and inventory ammunition. Penguin failed to disclose details about his future plans, but Victor knows the kingpin’s ambitions could require more muscle at a later date. They need to prepare.

Despite how busy the day keeps him, Zsasz’s mind drifts to his recent chance encounters with Detective Gordon. To be completely honest, Zsasz can’t stop thinking about _him_. Victor's always found Jim’s looks hard to ignore, even back when Don Falcone first sent him to fetch the detective and later kidnap his former fiancé, Barbara Kean. Zsasz puffs an idle chuckle when he recalls how he initially dismissed the man for that reason alone. To his surprise, Jim proved himself as a formidable and worthy opponent who would not be intimidated. Victor’s respect for the man only grew with time.

The assassin remains impressed by the detective’s intelligence, cunning, marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat skills. (Jim even managed to take out a few of his Girls and knock him out twice to date. The fact still chagrins him.) Zsasz respected the man so much, he felt compelled to seek him out and share a few words with him before Don Falcone ordered the inevitable hit that he later called off.

In all the time Victor’s known the detective, he’s usually been on the “right” side of the law. So why now, after all this time, is Jim Gordon visiting illegal fight clubs and taking out traffickers without trial?

 _And today at the deli? What was that_?

After reassembling his final gun and clicking his magazine into it, Victor feels compelled to seek the man out again.

 

—>j<—

“What?!”, Jim exclaims as he furrows his brows together.

“They want us to find The Riddler, AKA: Pencil Neck Dweeb Nygma. He’s our number one priority. The commissioner and mayor want someone to take the fall for the Tetch Virus debacle. Edward held the city ransom for Oswald Cobblepot. So naturally, the mayor wants him as the scapegoat for the outbreak. It’s a good publicity move and it earns him Gotham’s trust, especially for re-elections.”

Jim reclines back into the leather chair. He lets out a deep sigh as he crosses his legs. He barely ate half of his sub, his appetite squashed with the news. He knows there is only one course of action.

He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head.

“Shit.”

Harvey eyes him knowingly.

“You gotta buddy. You _know_ damn well Oswald knows where he’s at. Alive or dead, we need Edward brought in and accounted for. Look, you have tonight and most of tomorrow off. I suggest gettin' some ass and gettin' some rest.”

Harvey winks as he pulls Jim’s unfinished sub closer. His large hands quickly take the forgotten, now cold, sandwich to his lips. He chomps down a large bite and smiles at Jim.

The captain muffles through his full mouth.

“Come back tomorrow afternoon ready to _ruffle_ some Penguin feathers.”

Jim slowly gets up from his seat and laughs. He doesn’t need the time off but he isn’t about to argue. He wants to hit up some dives and maybe explore some more. His encounter with Zsasz at the deli left him anxious; he needs a good ol’ bar fight.

He heads back to his dismal, empty apartment. He opts for a nice hot shower to loosen his tense muscles before heading out. His thoughts linger on Penguin and all the mess with Edward. Jim heard while he revisited his old bounty hunter spots that the small kingpin took over The Sirens establishment.

His mind quickly inserts flashes of him using his newly acquired butterfly knife on the small man. The urge to carve a confession about Ed’s location from Oswald makes his body pulse with anticipation. He shoves his face into the hot stream of water as pervading thoughts of Penguin screaming manifest in his mind.

He begins tossing himself. Thoughts of Oswald broken and yielding underneath him charge him up for a night of debauchery.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t speak for FC, but I personally loved putting this chapter together. Talk about fun! 
> 
> I’d never RPed before constructing this chapter. I gotta thank FC for her bottomless patience with me and gettin’ me back on track. It was after this initial encounter between Jim and Victor that I was convinced we really had something special. I was blown away by the fantastic chemistry between these two. 
> 
> Still skeptical? You won’t be for much longer. Lovin’ me some GorZsasz/Jisz/Zsaszdon or whatever you wanna call it. Delish! And don’t even get me started on how brilliantly FC writes Harvey Bullock! So jealous! -o-
> 
> ___________________
> 
>  
> 
> This first RP was hilarious. The both of us had no idea what the other was expecting. I remember Owl (Zsasz) was hoping Jim would just throw that ass to Victor in the men's bathroom in the deli. *grin* 
> 
> Our next RP session we finally had a clear cut destination and expectation for the story. This helped us on end goal with future encounters versus this first actual discussion. This first conversation had no real purpose other than for Victor to antagonize Jim and get in his head. :)
> 
> If you don't mind a slow build up and obstacles for each character then hold onto your butts! You won't be disappointed with the direction. I promise you. ~FC


	3. Predator vs. Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim questions Oswald about Edward Nygma's whereabouts. Under a hunch that the small kingpin is hiding something, he later tries sneaking into the club. His plan takes a detour when he realizes that Victor is openly stalking him. 
> 
> Will their cat and mouse game turn into something else later on?

—>z<—

Despite his well-established history with the kingpin, Victor decides to personally report to Penguin the next evening to update him on the stiff and follow-up on his referral. Given the proximity of the club, Zsasz tries there first before heading all the way out to the Van Dahl estate. He pulls around back to the service entrance when he sees lights on in the establishment.

Victor dismounts his motorcycle and strides up when his phone rings. It’s Penguin.

“Boss?”

“Victor, first of all, thank you for sending Mr. Ruiz yesterday afternoon. He was most accommodating and amenable to our special needs here at the club. Ah, yes —and for sending your men on such short notice. On a related note, how did it go yesterday?”

“Not a hitch. I was just about to go in and tell you.”

Victor finds the service entrance locked.

“You wanna send someone back here to let me in, or should I just… _let myself in_?”

“Wait. You’re here at the club now?”

“Yeah. Out back.”

“It’s kismet. Your timing couldn’t be better, Victor. It seems I need your assistance with a most inopportune visitor who _just_ left a moment ago. He can’t have made it that far.”

“Who’s the mark?”

“Detective Gordon.”

Victor’s brow arches for a moment before heading for his motorcycle.

“So you want me to…”

He concludes his question with a single loud click of his tongue.

“No, Victor. Nothing like that, but I need for you to keep an eye on him. Not only has his line of questioning caused me to rethink some of my plans, he’s proven to be more _assertive_ than he has in the past. Fortunately, two of my associates, Miss Pike and Miss Pepper, happened to be present.”

“So just tail him?”

“Precisely.”

Zsasz darts to the front of the building to look around a corner down the block. Nothing. When he checks the other direction, he recognizes Jim’s familiar swagger and professional dress about a block up the street. He appears to be heading for his sedan.

“One more thing, Victor. You may find Detective Gordon’s behavior somewhat… _uncharacteristic_. Be prepared for anything. In the meantime, I’m returning back to the mansion. Let’s catch up there tomorrow evening, say sevenish?”

“Got it.”

Victor snaps his phone shut and pockets it. He starts to follow the man, but stops when he spies him heading for the driver’s side of his car. He watches Jim pull the keys from his pocket then stop for a moment. Before unlocking his car door, the detective looks further up the block towards the bars, nightclubs and strip clubs thrumming with music.

Zsasz follows after Jim pockets his keys and heads for the debauchery. Given they’re closest to the gay bars and one of Gotham’s most infamous leather bars, the pros here are almost all male.

Jim walks past numerous offers of sex and drugs as he heads up the block, until one young man in particular catches his eye. His short raven hair is styled in a spiky goth cut. He’s donning a leather collar, a Joy Division “Unknown Pleasures” t-shirt, skinny black pants and combat boots. When the detective takes a second look at the kid, he stops dead in his tracks.

Zsasz hangs back and watches as Jim talks to the young man for a good while. Because the detective doesn’t exhibit the body language of an interested john, he knows their exchange isn’t transactional.

_Jim must know that kid._

In fact, their discussion is so in-depth, Zsasz feels confident he can walk up the sidewalk undetected. As he closes in, Zsasz notices a man on another corner clocking both men.

 

—>j<—

Jim follows the kid into the alley. The boy stops beside a dumpster.

“So, what do you want to know, detective?”

“Have you noticed anything odd coming or going from the old Sirens club?”

Jim studies the youth as he shuffles on his feet and thinks a moment. The boy’s appearance seems so much like Oswald’s: raven hair, lily-white skin, and green eyes. His eyes begin to wander all over the thinking youth. The detective catches himself and stiffens, mentally slapping himself for the lecherous act.

“Well, there was a tall dude in some weird suit. White hair and he glowed blue.”

Jim sighs.

“Mr. Freeze. Great.”

He knew that Oswald aligned himself with the escapees from Indian Hill. He was hoping that those alliances were short-lived. Penguin is already a formidable opponent but with Mr. Freeze, he could quickly get Gotham’s criminal world in his control.

The boy’s eyes light up.

“Yeah! That’s the guy! They were hauling something big into the club earlier. Couldn’t really see what it was though; it was covered.”

“Okay thanks, Sean. Look, I know we’ve discussed this many times before but…”

Jim notices the boy’s expression turns to that of surprise at whatever is behind him. He quickly side-steps and turns around in time to see a knife come down and stab him in the shoulder. The cut isn’t deep but it hurt like hell.

The man swipes the blade at Jim, making the detective dodge and slam back into the dumpster. The man quickly lunges at the detective blade tip first. Jim swipes at the attacker’s blade hand by grabbing his wrist and spinning to deliver a left elbow to his nose. The man staggers back as he relinquishes the knife, blood pouring generously from his broken nose.

“Get out of here, Sean. Now!”

 

—>z<—

On Zsasz’s way up the block, he glares at one over-eager hustler before exchanging glances with a familiar face approaching him.

The fit, crew cut blonde wears a tight white t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. Victor’s momentarily distracted by the abs rippling beneath, as well as the snuggly fitting jeans that hug his thighs and ride high around his groin. He flashes a big toothy smile as the blonde looks him up and down and addresses him.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Victor takes a quick glance to confirm Jim, the kid and the man clocking them are still up the block. He slowly rubs the underside of his jaw as he regards the stunner.

“Yeah. Been working. Actually, I’m in the middle of something right now.”

Zsasz takes an interested step forward and arches a brow.

“You free later?”

Victor takes another quick glance and spies Jim following the kid into the alley. The man on the other corner reaches for something in his pocket and follows them.

The blonde reaches for the assassin’s chest and slowly rubs down before replying coquettishly.

“I’ll be around. Come and find me.”

Victor curls one side of his mouth before he hustles up the street. When he hears the shout of a familiar voice, he reaches for one of his Sig Sauer GSRs and darts up to the alley’s entrance.

 

—>j<—

Jim’s informant, Sean, wastes no time and hustles back to the alley’s entrance. He nearly runs into Zsasz who is standing out in the open at the end of the alleyway.

Jim already has his unregistered gun out, still equipped with the silencer, by the time Sean is out of sight.

He grins at the man that attacked him. Jim recognizes him as the boy’s pimp. He’s had a couple of run-ins with him but never had the pimp tried attacking him before.

“Get in that dumpster.”

Jim smiles at the bloodied man as he cocks the gun and points a thumb back at the large metal bin.

The attacker hesitates and says smugly.

“Take me in detective. I’d rather go to jail.”

Jim’s smile fades as a scowl takes it place.

“I said, _get in_ the dumpster. Or, would you rather I shoot you right here, right now?”

The man wants to call Jim’s bluff but opts to just comply, mumbling that he’ll take this out on Sean later. He opens the large metal lid and climbs in with some difficulty. Once inside, he turns to Jim.

“I’m in.”

Jim shoots him in the head. The man falls dead on top of the garbage pile. The detective grabs a few large bags of garbage and covers the body as best he can.

_The garbage trucks will be by in the morning to collect and I doubt anyone will miss a murderous pimp._

He closes the lid.

He notices from the corner of his eye some movement in the distance. He turns and sees Zsasz at the end of the alley. The killer’s expression is hard to read in the advancing dark of the evening. The street lights flicker on as they both stare each other down.

_Why is he following me? If Victor wanted me dead he would have killed me by now. He wants me to know he’s watching me._

Jim finds he’s intrigued more than concerned over Victor’s blatant observation of him. His blood quickens; he’s in the mood to play with him. He reholsters his gun and makes no move towards the silent and unmoving assassin. He notices a side door to the club not fully seated in its jam. He walks to the door and opens it, but halts momentarily. He turns his head slightly and gives Victor a look before entering.

Victor swears he just saw Jim glance back before stepping into the back entrance of a club. Zsasz quirks a brow.

_Was that an “invitation”?_

Jim makes his way through the bustling kitchen to the crowded club floor. The music is blaringly loud as men dance all around and in suspended cages.  

A Mindless Self Indulgence song screeches through the sound system, “Jack You Up”:

 _“What you talking about motherfucker_  
_I can see what you got_  
_You know I'm gonna control the situation_ _  
__It's just another way for me to play god...”_

The crowds pulse with each beat making the floor vibrate. Gordon gazes into the undulating mass of sweaty, writhing, and half-naked men. Most of them touching, grinding, and kissing on their dance partners. Jim’s body spikes with heat and rapid pulse, an erection slowly building in his pants.

 _“Spin round quick rock yo body_  
_You know that I am mister matter of fact_  
_I don't understand what you got inside yo body baby but it makes me want to jack you up_  
_Jack you up_  
_Jack you up_  
_Jack you up_ _  
__Jack you up...”_

Victor quickly makes his way through the same door and finds himself in a kitchen. He nabs a fried chicken tender and consumes it in two large bites as he strides through it. Once he exits the kitchen, he scans the club. He’s pleased to spot Jim making his way through the crowd not much further ahead.

Jim glances the way he came. He sees Victor standing at the door to the kitchen, watching him with narrowed eyes. A slow stretching smirk and tilting head make Zsasz appear predatory. His deep black eyes never breaking from him despite the parade of flesh all around. Jim’s erection throbs with anticipation as predator vs. prey scenario plays out between them.

_Is he looking to kill me? What’s going on?_

He can feel the familiar need of the darkness within him stirring. His erection throbs at the prospect of spending a night submitting to the dangerous killer. Jim wonders if Victor can sense his attraction. The man is odd, but proved to have a keen instinct. He hadn’t treaded in Victor’s domain or done anything to risk his retribution. The assassin even admitted he didn’t have a contract on him when they were at the deli.

_So, what IS this? Why is he following me? And that exchange at the deli. What was that? Well, whatever this is, I need to put it on pause. I need to get into Oswald’s hangout._

Jim offers the assassin a smile and a wink.

_Maybe the both of us can discuss what this is later._

Zsasz can’t believe his good fortune.

_Of all the places to wind up._

The club is thrumming with music and teeming with writhing men: hands and mouths, pecs and lats, abs, asses and grinding hips as far as the eye can see. Victor’s face splits into a wide grin.

It’s at that moment, his quarry turns back to look. After they lock eyes, Jim smiles.

And _winks_.

Zsasz was already feeling the hunger that came with tailing his mark, but it isn’t until he locks eyes with Jim that he _really_ feels the heat of the low, deep swell.

His focus narrows and his breathing becomes more measured. Zsasz’s dick stirs.

All he _sees_ is _Jim._

All he _wants_ is _Jim._

The assassin makes his way through the crowd as quickly as possible, following the detective.

Jim heads to the bar on the far corner of the club for a beer and to inspect his wound.

Jim flags down the bartender for a beer. After his request, he peels his jacket back and assesses his knife wound. It was bleeding, but not badly; the cut was fine. He knows it's going to sting in the morning.

A couple of men approach Jim, looking to flirt with him.

Jim raises an eyebrow and watches as they both corner him at the bar. They are both large muscular men dressed in matching leather straps and pants. They appear to be hopped up on drugs and alcohol. Their eyes are bloodshot and the veins in their faces bulge under the strain of high blood pressure.

Zsasz’s anticipation grows as he narrows the gap between them —only to see two men walk up and approach Jim.

The blonde leans into Jim.

“Hey there, handsome. Want to party with us?”

“Are you a bottom?”

Victor’s desire is immediately replaced by territoriality. He no longer slips between men to get to Jim. He now forcibly shoves them out of his way as he closes in.

Jim turns his attention to the older one with a buzz cut that’s standing behind him. He doesn’t find them particularly attractive but he can see how some others would. He only has eyes for one man at the moment. He spies from the corner of his peripherals the pale countenance of his obsession closing in.

The bartender waves at him and slides his beer across the bartop. Jim holds out his hand to accept the sliding bottle.

Zsasz reaches the bar just in time to intercept Jim’s beer and take a large gulp. It’s rare for Victor to drink, so he wrinkles his nose at the beverage before putting it down. Victor gives his rivals a long unblinking stare.

Jim smirks to himself and decides now is a great time to lose Victor. He still has a job to do and he can’t do it with Zsasz stalking him.

_Maybe another time, Zsasz._

He gasps and does his best to look scared.

“My abusive boyfriend is here! You two should get lost before he hurts you for speaking to me. Victor, baby! Please, don’t cause a scene! I’m sorry! I...I…I just wanted a beer.”

Jim’s words begin to register and sink into Zsasz.

_What._

_The._

_Fuck?_

Jim wraps his arms around his own body and shrinks way from a very wide-eyed assassin. His acting classes from high school, senior year, finally coming in handy.

Zsasz’s eyes widen in disbelief at Jim’s outrageous display and abrupt departure. Victor sighs and shakes his head.

_Dammit, Jim. It’s never easy with you, is it?_

The two men puff out their chests. They proceed to corner and threaten one of the most dangerous men in all of Gotham. Jim takes the opportunity to slip out of the club. He cackles as he runs out the door.

 

—>z<—

Zsasz’s competition begins posturing the moment Jim leaves. He blinks and puffs out an annoyed huff before returning his reluctant attention to the leather-clad men.

Buzzcut is already mouthing off and moving in closer. The younger blonde does too, but he’s more of a scared gym bunny who keeps glancing at Buzzcut for direction. Zsasz is confident he's no threat.

Since the only man who really interests him just left, Victor tilts his and sizes up the two men. He briefly considers whether he should fuck them, kill them, or _both._  By now, Buzzcut’s increasing belligerence is causing a scene. There is no way their exchange will go unnoticed.

Zsasz idly studies Buzzcut, who’s now worked himself into a tirade. The man stands a few inches taller than Victor and is clearly in great shape. His musculature is too developed and cumbersome to have any real speed, but he is obviously powerful _and high_. He also acts like he has something to prove.

Zsasz finishes his assessment. Buzzcut now stands before him —hostile, antagonistic and demanding an answer to some unheard question.

“Well, asshole?”

Victor casually shrugs.

“Oh. I wasn’t listening. I was waiting for you two to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“Which one of you I get to fuck first.”

The men blink in shock. The blonde initially looks surprised before looking a little interested. Predictably, Buzzcut is the one to react.

The leather-clad man’s face contorts in anger. He quickly rears both arms back in preparation to give Zsasz a powerful shove. When Buzzcut begins forcing his palms towards Victor’s shoulders, the assassin instantly leans into the advancing man, quickly forcing his arms underneath and wedging himself between his opponent’s arms.

He rapidly rotates his curled arms outwards, deflecting the shove and positioning himself directly in front of the man —taking advantage of the momentum to force Buzzcut’s arms away from his body, leaving him unprotected.

Victor headbutts the man’s face, slamming the crown of his head into the man’s zygomatic process (just below the right eye). He quickly follows with a rapid thrust of his left elbow into the side of the stunned man’s head. The two successive blows force Buzzcut’s head to the left, where Zsasz finishes him off with a right hook.

Victor watches Buzzcut fall like a tree before turning a hardened glare at Leather Gym Bunny.

The wide-eyed blonde stands mouth agape. In a panic, he holds up his hands in surrender to prove he’s not a threat, quickly shaking his head from side to side.

Zsasz looks across the club to see if he can spot Jim, but he’s nowhere to be found. Victor returns his gaze to the blonde, glances to the bathroom and nods toward it. Zsasz blinks once and the man begins making his way there. Victor follows him.

When Victor walks into the bathroom, the blonde turns to face him. The assassin reaches to unfasten his belt buckle and pants as he approaches.

The man sinks to his knees and reaches into Zsasz’s pants.

—>j<—

Jim rounds back near the now defunct Sirens club. He sees Oswald, along with Ivy and Bridgit, get into a vehicle and leave the club. Jim dips into a dark corner as the car passes by on the street.

He looks around to make sure Zsasz isn’t on his heels. A couple of guards walk out a side entrance of the Sirens building to have a smoke. The detective’s face screws into a sour expression. He hoped Penguin wouldn’t have a guard detail just yet.

Jim then analyzes the building next to the club. It has a fire escape ladder that goes all the way to the roof.

He waits for the men to go back inside. He gives his area one more look around before he proceeds. _No one around._                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

He runs and dips into the dark corridor. He jumps and grabs the ladder leading to the first platform above. He quickly scales the fire escape up the three-story building. He crouches as he looks over the edge to the top of Oswald’s new hangout. The night is deep and dark; he retrieves his night vision binoculars.

_No one across._

He notices a fire exit to the roof. The gap between both buildings is a bit too large and attempting to jump it in the dark would be foolhardy. Jim looks around.

He sees some wood planking and paint buckets all piled up by the exit on his roof. He also sees a retracted ladder lying on the ground. He quickly extends the ladder to assess its length.

“Perfect.”

Jim carefully works the ladder down to the topmost platform of the fire escape. He locks the feet of the ladder against the brick wall and leans the fully extended device to the other building. He begins his crossing to the rooftop.

Once there, he hurries to the door of the exit as he retrieves his gun out of the holster. His freehand grabs for the doorknob but, as he does, the door swings open. A very surprised guard stands dumbstruck by Jim’s presence.

The moment passes and the man makes for his weapon. Jim quickly ends him with a clean shot to the head. The body crumples against the doorway.

The detective searches the man. He retrieves a set of keys, his gun and his wallet. He looks through the wallet and finds an all too familiar calling card. It's a black card stock with the letter “Z” in red print.

Jim grits his teeth and sighs out of his nose.

_Victor is working with Oswald again. Great. Just fucking great. I just killed one of his men. Damn._

The dead man’s phone rings loudly. Jim quickly retrieves it out of the man’s inside jacket pocket. The ID flashes, “ _Boss Z”._

Jim switches the ringing phone to silent. He tosses the wallet and card on the dead body. He pockets the phone, keys, and weapon.

_Victor’s anticipating that I would come here. I better go._

Jim runs back to his ladder and quickly scales down the rungs. He then hops from platform to platform of the fire escape. Once on the ground, he runs across the street and dips into the dark alley and exits the other side, intending to head to his car.

 

—>z<—

The moment Zsasz exits the club to return to Penguin’s, he makes a call to check in with one of his men, Cyril, who fails to answer. On his walk back, he discovers Jim’s sedan still parked on the side of the street and suddenly stops. He unsheathes his combat knife and punctures the two passenger side tires out of view from the street. He arrives at the club and checks in with three of his men. It doesn’t take long to find Cyril dead with a bullet in his head. His phone, keys and weapon are all missing. On Cyril's chest, lie his wallet and one of Victor’s cards.

_Jim._

Zsasz fires off a quick text instructing his three best Girls to get to the club asap before calling Penguin.

“Boss? We gotta problem.”

Victor is chagrined to report he lost Jim and that one of his men is dead. His Girls arrive shortly before Penguin, who has two young women in tow. The kingpin introduces the olive-skinned one with the flamethrower as Bridgit. The redhead is Ivy.

Oswald informs Victor about Jim’s aggressive questioning regarding Edward Nygma’s whereabouts earlier as he hobbles to the kitchen. Victor follows the kingpin into a commercial freezer to unveil (of all things) Edward Nygma frozen in a block of ice.

Not much surprises the assassin, but even _he_ blinks in astonishment at the sight. Penguin turns to him.

“Victor, we need to get ahead of this. The GCPD is actively on the hunt for Edward. Why not use this homicide to our advantage? After all, who more than Edward would have a motive to seek out and harm me on behalf of some personal vendetta? I plan to report the murder, especially since the GCPD has no probable cause to search the premises. It seems I may need more of your men here and perhaps even at the mansion.”

“On it.”

“Bridgit and Ivy will provide me any assistance I may require in the meantime. Please arrange more men for me and continue with your earlier assignment.”

Victor responds with a nod before striding out. He instructs his Girls to obtain more men before heading back up the block where he followed Jim. He seeks out the overeager hustler he stared down earlier and pulls him aside.

After the hustler concludes his anonymous tip to the GCPD about a man in green with glasses shooting a man in a dumpster, Victor slips him a c-note.

Upon Victor’s return back to Penguin’s club, he looks down at Jim’s punctured tires and smirks.

_Maybe this time Jim will finally come to me._

_—_

Later, when his additional men report to the club, Victor greets and gathers them together. He reaches for his lapels and addresses them.

“Gentlemen. Now that you’re all here, let’s get down to business. The Boss needs two of you shot.”

The men trade worried glances as the assassin leans towards them. He stretches a wide grin and playfully arches his brow.

“So. Who’s it gonna be?”

When no one immediately volunteers, he reaches for one of his GSRs and addresses them again —this time, with an edge to his tone.

“Guess I get to decide then.”

The redhead ( _Ivy?_ ) huffs out, rolls her eyes and interrupts.

“ _I’ll_ take care of it.”

Victor quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head quizzically as she dabs something on her wrist. She walks up to each of his men and lifts her wrist up to their noses. After each man inhales the scent, she begins addressing them and points towards the assassin. Zsasz’s Girls stand to the side and watch on.

“So, Victor here… _Wait_.”

She turns to Zsasz and whispers to him.

“It’s Victor, right? Just like Fries?”

“Freeze?”

“Tall guy? White hair? Blue jumpsuit. You know him, right?”

The assassin furrows his brow for a moment before nodding.

“Oh right. He’s a Victor, too.”

She quirks her face into a funny expression and raises a brow.

“Weird, huh?”

Victor puffs out an amused snort.

“Yeah. It _is_.”

Ivy returns her attention back to the men.

“Yeah, so Victor here needs two volunteers that he can shoot.”

When all six men enthusiastically raise their hands, she proudly beams back at the assassin. He quirks a brow and exchanges a confused glance with his Girls, before shrugging and randomly shooting two of his men in the shoulder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter makes me giggle. Since FC outed me and Zsasz’s (okay, *my*) expectation that Jim might give some up at the deli, I’ma have to tell on her a smidge: 
> 
> I was the one that dreamed up that cute little prostitute for Jim to run into and that Os’ club would be in an area with a high concentration of gay clubs. I was kinda surprised at FC’s surprise at this development. However, if I was a betting person (which I’m not), I bet she wasn’t nearly as surprised as I was when Jim left my &ss at the bar with those two leathered musclebears! :D 
> 
> Anyway, this was another fun chapter. FC’s effin’ brilliant. I tip my hat to you, sistah! -o-
> 
> ___________
> 
> The gay club scene was a retaliation for putting Jim with a male prostitute. (Sorry Owl) heheheh I woke up one morning to a text saying she was done with Zsasz POV. I hurry into the document, eager to question Oswald, and instead I'm going into an alley with a male hooker.
> 
> I remember laughing my ass off and saying "What the FUCK?!"
> 
> If Owl hadn't detoured me I was going to really "lay" into Oswald. I was really going to "give" it to him. >:) But glad I was detoured or this story would have had entirely different premise.
> 
> I then told her to feel free to derail a situation. That shit was fun and funny! Poor Zsasz, just can't get that Gordon booty when he wants it.
> 
> It's an intricate dance! As I keep saying >:) Love you boo!


	4. A Convenient Alibi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After failing to get into Oswald’s hideout, Jim is taken by surprise by a devious plot. Not only does he have to continue his search for Nygma, he now has to deal with the position that Penguin has put him in.
> 
> To top it all off, Victor’s reasons for tailing Jim soon becomes apparent.

—>j<—

Jim walks out of the alley and up the road a couple of blocks where he parked his car. He hastily fishes out his keys as he approaches closer. By the time he nears his car, he notices that the passenger side is leaning. He arches an eyebrow and inspects the cause. He groans when he realizes both passenger tires are flat. Visible in the dim street lights are deep gouges in both tires, the evidence puckering out.

“You’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me!”

He runs a hand through his hair and looks around. He chuckles and shakes his head.

_Zsasz probably isn’t too happy with me with what happened in that club._

He shoves his hand into his coat pocket with mild annoyance as he retrieves his phone. He then realizes he has another set of keys he took from the dead guard.

_I guess I have a new ride._

After about twenty minutes and checking every parking lot within radius of The Sirens, he walks to a parking lot two blocks away. He knows he’s looking for a Chrysler; he checked the keys. Lucky for him, that not many cars are parked in each lot. He looks around and spies a black Imperial, 1964 model. A smile leaps onto his face. He unlocks the car and is about to get in when his phone rings.

“Harv.”

“Hey Jim, we just got a couple of calls, one from Oswald of all people. One of his guards was murdered at the old Sirens club. Also a separate anonymous tip about some guy that shot and shoved a body into a dumpster not far from there. The caller said the man was in all green and had glasses on. I have a couple of units on the way.”

Jim can feel his heart racing; he looks around and squats down by the car door. His mind is blank from utter confusion by this unprecedented move from Oswald.

_Why is he covering up my murders by saying Edward did them? Wait —That. Clever. Little. Asshole._

He chuckles under his breath and licks his lips.

“Jim?”

“Okay, I’m not far. I’ll go take his statement and investigate the murders.”

He takes a deep breath and steels himself. He gets out his badge and latches it to his belt. He then ensures his unregistered weapon is out of the holster and replaced with his police department standard issue gun. He’s about to leave on foot when he decides it best to drive the car and park it elsewhere.

He drives three blocks away from The Sirens in the opposite direction and parks. He leaves his 1911 Colt Commander and the Sig Sauer P228 he took from the dead guard, in the car. He hustles his way to the club.

When he gets there, he sees a unit pulling up to the building. He flags them down.

A small female officer greets him with a stiff business tone in her voice.

“Detective Gordon.”

Jim greets them both as they approach.

“I need you and Officer Hernandez to take statements while I investigate the crime scene. Has a coroner or M.E. been called yet?”

The two rookie officers look at each other nervously.

“Call.”

Jim sighs and briskly walks up to the club doors; they immediately open. Oswald waits just past the doors with Ivy standing beside him, arms crossed. She’s giving him an icy glare down her upturned nose.

Jim smiles painfully at the duo. He sees movement just behind them, near the bar. Victor’s leaning against the bartop cleaning a gun. He turns his head slightly towards the gathering and grins at him. Jim notices six guards standing in flanking positions, eyeing him and the two officers.

“Detective Gordon! My, I feel like I am seeing quite a bit of _you_ tonight!”

The small man’s composure barely holds as he teems with enthusiasm. His green eyes light up like two aquamarine jewels as a wide grin settles on top of a jutted-out jaw. Underneath the fake welcome, Jim could see a scheme about to hatch.

“Oswald. So, what happened here?”

Jim can feel the dark uncoiling of rage just under his business-like demeanor. He narrows his blue eyes at the elated man. He wants to smack the small man down and strangle his little neck. His mind brings forth previous thoughts about using the butterfly knife on his porcelain white skin. An image flashes in his mind of fucking Penguin senseless, Oswald screaming for mercy as his eyes fill with tears.

He feels the stir of an erection. His need isn’t out of lust but out of the desire to conquer his longtime foe. He wants to break the beautiful and defiant little man in so many ways.

He walks right up to Oswald and towers over him; the small man loses his smile. Green and blue eyes search each other for a sign of weakness. Jim’s gaze then falls towards Oswald’s lips.

The small kingpin blinks first and takes a step back. Jim smiles and huffs out a quick breath as he looks him up and down.

Oswald points out into the world as he declares in a screechy voice.

“What happened here? I’m being stalked and harassed! Edward Nygma is out there and he still wants me dead!”

It’s now Jim’s turn to blink. His smile drops but he recovers quickly.

“Edward, huh? What makes you think he’s responsible?”

Oswald bursts into a rage. Jim had to hand it to the small man, no one beats his acting. The pompous kingpin trembles as he shouts.

“What do you mean?! Have you forgotten how he wanted to trade me for Tetch just so he could kill me?! And _you —_ were going to let him! You want him so badly, then find him! He can’t be too far!”

Every vein in Oswald’s head bulges as his fists clench stiffly at his sides. Jim swears Penguin’s nose gets pointier when he goes on one of his tirades. Jim scoffs.

“Okay, so what exactly happened?”

Ivy huffs out with annoyance.

“That weirdo tried to….”

“Ivy!”

Oswald flashes her a dirty look as he points his index finger at her. His eyes close briefly; he then returns his attention to Gordon.

Ivy stomps towards Victor and sits on a stool with a loud scoff, her petulance evident as she glares at Oswald.

Jim waves Officer Hernandez and Officer Jones over.

“He killed one of my guards attempting to break into my establishment. He wounded two more as my men tried to apprehend him!”

Oswald points over to two guards at a table getting their wounds bandaged. Jim raises an eyebrow as he looks over at the wounded men. His face scrunches up in disbelief at the odd turn of events.

_What the fuck? Did they intentionally shoot themselves for this cover-up?_

His questioning gaze turns towards Zsasz, who’s still leaning at the bar appearing typically aloof. The task of cleaning his weapons done, undistracted dark eyes now watch him intently. Jim can see the predator from earlier, still waiting to ensnare him. His heart strums hard in his chest as his pulse quickens. Thoughts of touching Victor cloud his focus on the job at hand. Their eyes lock onto each other for a few long moments. His growing erection now starting to harden to his full length. He quietly inhales a long breath, willing his body to calm down.

_He has no idea what he is doing to me._

He turns his attention back to Oswald.

“Where’s the body?”

Jim places his hands on his hips, trying discreetly to get hold of his excitement. His gaze subconsciously travels back to Zsasz but he stops himself before they lock eyes again. He does his best to focus on Oswald.

Penguin’s eyes glare daggers as he responds.

“Up on the roof, at the fire escape door.”

Jim turns to his two officers.

“Take everyone’s statements.”

He turns back to Oswald.

“Lead the way.”

Jim clenches his jaw; he’s been itching to get Penguin alone. The small man quickly makes his way across the main floor to the stairwell. Jim follows while his eyes affix on Victor. The assassin remains in his relaxed posture at the bar. He’s slumped on a stool with his back against the dark wood, elbows propped on the surface. Victor’s head is tilted as his deep gaze remains locked on him.

He looks Victor up and down before he turns into the stairwell. A small smile cracking the surface of his features as he internally comments.

_He looks unscathed from the situation I put him in. Those two roided-out guys had no idea what they were dealing with._

He laughs in his head.

Oswald stops at the foot of the stairs and smiles at Jim as the access door closes behind him. The light in the stairwell casts a dim red hue in the darkness.

“I won’t be following you up the stairs. I hope you understand exactly what’s transpiring here, detective. Edward committed this murder and the murder of some random miscreant. The poor sap was found in a garbage bin, neatly tucked under bags of refuse.”

Oswald’s air of haughtiness emerges with each sentence. Even in the dimly lit area, Jim can see his green eyes pierce into him. His perfectly-styled head swiveling as a triumphant smile beams brightly. The small man pauses to let his words linger.

Jim can feel the restless energy build deep inside him. The need to place his hands on Penguin burns fiercely. The small man continues to speak, but Jim isn’t listening.

“I expect you to…”

Jim’s will breaks in that moment. He rushes the small man, making him stumble backwards into the wall by the door. His unfinished sentence catching in his throat as he squeaks.

Oswald hits the back of his head on the wall as he looks up into a madman’s eyes, no longer Jim’s.

The detective’s hands slam next to Oswald’s head against the wall; his face leans in close. He smiles salaciously at the cornered man; his eyes look him up and down slowly. He always loves how flustered the small man gets when his personal space is invaded.

“Wh-what are you doing!?”

“Nothing yet.”

Jim leans into Oswald’s neck and inhales deeply. His skin effervescent with the scent of lavender, rosemary and white musk. He wants to sink his teeth into the trembling gilded man. He returns his gaze to wide green eyes. He whispers in a hushed growl.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of. If you keep fucking with me, I’m going to _fuck you,_ both literally and metaphorically. You’re lucky you had Ivy and Firefly with you earlier. I wanted to hear you scream as I carved into you.”

Jim’s lips come in to barely graze the shell of Oswald’s ear as he purrs.

“Then —Mmm.”

Jim exhales a long deep moan.

A shaky gasp escapes from Oswald, his breathing accelerates into heavy panting.

Gordon pulls back. He turns to head up the stairs, leaving Penguin without another word or exchange. He smiles as he hears the ruffled bird trying to compose himself in the stairwell.

He reaches the top landing where the body remains exactly as he left it. He hears the door below open then close. He’s now left in silence with the corpse. The red light by the door casts an eerie luminescence, lending a horrific feel to the entire scene.

Jim rakes his eyes over the crumpled body. He notices the wallet and card still lie on top of the corpse’s chest. He opens the door and searches the vicinity. He sees a faint glint on the floor and finds what he is looking for, the expended shell casing. He pockets the small bit of metal in his jacket.

He retrieves his phone to call Harvey. He stops when he hears slow methodical footsteps coming up the stairs. A whimsical whistling slices through the silence as it reverberates in the deep, dark, narrow space.

_Victor…_

Jim walks away from the corpse and stands a few feet from the door, his hand on his gun as he awaits Zsasz to emerge from the dark stairwell.

He hears the footsteps reach the last landing as the whistling stops. The pale killer slowly emerges from the doorway. His thumbs in his belt and a smirk on his lips. He appears as though he’s out on a leisurely stroll.

Jim’s heart races and his apprehension increases.

_Is he about to kill me? Blackmail me?_

He furrows his brows together.

“Zsasz.”

Victor stretches a slow smile and drawls.

“Hello, Jim.”

Jim’s hands clench harder on his gun. He doesn't draw the weapon though.

“What do you want?”

Victor shrugs nonchalantly.

“Oh, I just came by to say ‘hi’.”

Jim eyes him warily. He takes his gun out of his holster, not taking chances with the dangerous man.

“Ah ha. Just like in the deli? Why are you following me?”

Though Jim sounds gruff, he's actually excited to have Zsasz up on the roof, alone. He gives Victor a hard look.

Victor coolly studies the way Jim unholsters his service weapon before returning his eyes back to him. He slowly takes a step toward the detective and breezily continues.

“Well yeah, Jim. I was just trying to say ‘ _hello_ ’ —maybe grab a bite with you.”

Jim smiles and grits his teeth. He raises his gun. He is swiftly losing his cool with the aloof man.

“Bullshit! What was that in the alley after I killed that pimp? Still looking to say hello then?”

Jim raises his gun and cocks it; his patience with the playful assassin wearing thin. Victor is toying with him, he’s sure of it.

Jim’s voice takes a deep and dangerous tone.

“Tell me! Why are you following me?”

Victor tilts his head, raises a brow and lightly rests his fingertips on his chest. He stretches a slow smile and tsks before coolly replying.

“Really, Jim? Are you gonna shoot _me_ , too?”

Jim smiles at the assassin and holds his gun steady. He is seconds from pulling the trigger; his finger begins to tighten. He growls out.

“Is your secrecy so important to you, say, over the use of your arms?”

Victor chuckles and shakes his head.

“Jim. You’re _always_ in such a hurry… running off to the next thing. Let’s see…”

Victor blinks once before looking upward and squinting in thought. He extends an index finger before returning his gaze to Jim.

“There was that pimp…”

He briefly looks up again before extending another three fingers and venturing two steps closer. He tilts his head, arches an eyebrow and smiles.

“...and those traffickers…”

Jim lowers his gun, eyes wide in disbelief. He begins grinding his teeth; the grip on his gun tightens as he responds.

“You _did_ see me at that fight club. You know what I did. _So what?_ It still _doesn't_ answer why you are following me!”

He raises his gun back up, eyes looking Victor up and down. The killer now stands a little more than an arm’s length away from his raised weapon.

Victor peers down at the detective and smiles.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Jim clenches his jaw tighter and glares threateningly at Victor.

“ _What_? Oswald looking to get dirt on me? That fucking little shit is going to end up…”

Jim shakes his head, not wanting to confess anything to Victor. His heart is racing beyond control. He gazes into the deadpan face, it's always hard to read Zsasz. He takes a deep breath and entertains the calm killer.

“What’s _obvious_ , Victor?”

Victor quirks his brow and swivels his head the opposite direction.

“That I _like_ you _,_ Jim.”

He takes a step closer and slowly curls up one side of his mouth.

“I thought, perhaps…”

As Zsasz moves in closer, his smile extends to the other side of his mouth.

“...we could (shrugging) _spend a little time_ together.”

Zsasz takes a step closer still and his lips begin to part, revealing his teeth.

“Maybe even…”

Victor shrugs casually, returns his gaze to the detective and purrs suggestively.

“...get to _know_ one another a little better.”

Victor arches a brow before stretching his mouth into an impossibly wide and toothy smile.

Jim drops his gun to his side, the weight of the weapon suddenly too heavy to bear. His eyes search the boyish face before him; Victor's smile is hard to ignore.

_Did... did he just..._

“Wh-what?”

Victor saunters in closer to the detective. He tilts his head and rakes his eyes all over the man before returning his gaze.

“ _Get to know one another a little better_. I didn’t stutter, Jim.”

Jim places a hand at his temple; his body begins to sway a bit. He's caught between shooting him or kissing him. The first man he’s felt a strong pull to just happens to be a killer, a felon.

He’s rendered dumbfounded; he’s sure the phantom effect of the Tetch virus is still messing with him. He never once thought about another man, except now, Victor.

“Zsasz…

He holsters his gun and heads back to the stairwell.

...just leave me alone.”

Victor grabs the retreating man’s arm and yanks him back to face him. The detective makes no effort to resist, so Zsasz reaches for the man’s abdominals before tilting his head and leaning in uncomfortably close. He addresses Jim in a measured and throaty voice.

“Don’t play coy with me, Jim. You know you want to.”

Zsasz’s eyes dart back and forth between Jim’s eyes and mouth. He pushes out his lower jaw and closes in.

Jim gasps as he is pulled into the solid man. He looks down to where Victor’s other hand rests just above his now aching erection. His body heat spikes uncontrollably and his heart begins racing with anticipation. He brings his own hand up and lays it on Victor's chest. He gazes into deep dark pools, the object of his desire within grasp. He snakes his hand up to the killer’s face as Zsasz slowly closes the small gap between them. His fingertips brush lightly from Victor’s ear and across his jaw. Jim leans in closer to his lips.

“Victor…”

The warm puffs of the detective’s breath and his touch stoke Victor’s desire. He acutely feels the deep, swelling ache. Zsasz’s facial muscles retract and his breathing gets away from him. He clamps down harder on Jim’s forearm, jerks him forward and crushes his lips against the smaller man’s. Victor opens his mouth wide and plunges his tongue deeply into Jim’s yielding mouth. The hand he rests on the detective’s abs reaches downward to palm him through this pants.

The moment Victor hears Jim’s quiet whimper, he curls his fingers to capture all that he can of the man’s cock. Victor moans gutturally when he discovers Jim hard.

Jim inhales sharply as the grip on his arm bites down. His euphoria overtakes his senses as Victor’s mouth encapsulates his. He wraps his free arm around his shoulder, deepening the kiss. The rich scent of leather, sweat and pheromones fill his nose as he inhales deeply.

A soft whimper escapes his mouth and into Victor’s. He feels fingers encase his erection over his pants. He moans once more. He wants to eat Zsasz alive; his teeth scrape thick warm lips as their tongues play vigorously with each other.

Victor’s hand on his cock slowly rubs firm strokes on his hardened length; it throbs back in response. The need for heat and more friction becomes unbearable.

Zsasz presses his mouth more forcefully against Jim’s. He loses himself in the heat of the man’s hungry mouth and feverishly grasps his hardened cock. The instant Zsasz feels Jim surrender and wrap an arm around him, he quickly coils both his arms around the smaller man to force him in closer.

He wants to _own_ Jim.

To _fuck_ him.

To _break_ him.

Jim snaps out of his lusty haze and realizes the reality at hand. He's making out with Zsasz: a dangerous killer and wanted felon, to put a fine point on it.

He unlatches his lips from Victor and pulls back as much as he can. The assassin’s arms have now wrapped him in a vise grip. He can feel the tension around him, they are solid like rocks as Victor squeezes tighter. He can feel the swift cadence of the assassin’s breathing against his own chest. Jim's hands try prying Victor's arms off of him as he gasps out.

“Let me go.”

Jim wants to give in but it's all too much for him to take in. His breaths rapidly increase as his eyes gaze up at the enamored killer.

Jim’s struggling only excites Victor more. Yet somehow, inexplicably, the detective pulls away from his kiss. Victor stares down at Jim’s swollen mouth and back up to his eyes as they track back and forth. The assassin vaguely realizes he’s panting. He furrows his brow before blinking once and inhaling a deep breath to calm himself. When he finally comes to his senses, he reluctantly slackens his grip on the detective.

Before releasing the smaller man, he stops for a moment and leans into his ear, grazing his lips against the shell of it.

“As you wish.”

Victor slowly pulls back with his chin extended forward. He takes a lingering gaze at the detective before releasing him and heading back to the stairwell.

Jim stumbles backwards as soon as Zsasz lets him go. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he does his best to collect himself. He’s momentarily dumbstruck as his eyes follow Victor; he chases the retreating killer.

Jim reaches out to put his hand on Victor’s shoulder but instead drops it back to his side. He blurts out.

“Why?”

Zsasz stops for a moment before turning around.

“Why _‘what’_ , Jim?”

Jim sighs and looks at Victor in disbelief.

“Why are you so interested in me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, not really. Forgive me if I’m a bit clueless.”

Victor shakes his head and puffs out a chuckle. He returns to the man, slowly leans down and purrs in his ear.  
  
“When you get right down to it, Jim, you and I really aren’t _that_ different. We _understand_ each other.  
  
What we _‘like’_ ...  
  
What we...

 _...‘want’._ ”

Jim looks up and searches the dark eyes before him. He reaches out a hand to touch Victor’s face but pulls it back and turns around. He walks away to look out over the nightscape of Gotham. He hears Victor’s footsteps disappear down the stairwell.

_I’ve completely lost my mind._

Jim can hear the other police unit arrive and park next to the other in front of the building. Jim looks back at the stairwell; he’s alone with the stiff again.

He adjusts himself and takes out his phone to call Harvey and inform him of the details of the murders.

After the M.E. and the coroner arrive and handle documenting the scene, Jim heads back to the precinct. He's up to his eyeballs in paperwork which he doesn’t mind. The tedious task keeps him busy as possible.

Harvey exits his office, his coat and hat in hand.

Jim’s deep in paperwork he’s barely able to focus on. Zsasz’s touch, taste and words have occupied his mind since returning to the GCPD.

He snaps out of another long fantasy to find he’s still working on the same report, same box and the same question for the last ten minutes.

“Jimbo, I’m headed home. I really wish you would too.”

Jim resumes transcribing details, absently chewing on a pinky nail. He snaps out of his thoughts and peers up at Harvey.

“Yeah, I’m just going to finish this and be out the door in ten minutes.”

Though Jim mentioned he's going to leave, he is in actuality going out. It's already past midnight, but he is still full of restless energy.

He quickly organizes his desk and sets the completed paperwork in an outbox. He heads to the locker room to shower and dress. He keeps a small wardrobe of street clothes in his locker along with toiletries for nights like this.

He shaves and primps himself then quickly dons a black button up, a black blazer, and black slacks. He pairs his ensemble with black leather dress shoes and belt. He then splashes cologne on his neck and ensures no hair is out of place.

He makes his way outside to hail a cab. He ditched the Chrysler Imperial before returning to the precinct, his own car still where he left it, flat tires and all.

He tells the cabbie to take him to a drag strip infamous for topless bars and strip joints. The street is sure to be packed and he can melt into the crowds.

_I just need a night where I can feel normal again. Maybe find a one time encounter; laugh and flirt. Sex afterwards._

His mind doesn’t relent with the memory of Victor’s warm lips or his hand on his erection.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love this chapter because it's the first kiss. It's the first bit of insight that Jim gets into a different side of Victor. When we were RPing the scene on the rooftop and I (Jim) started to question Jess (Zsasz) about why the fuck was he following me. And Jess kept Zsasz so breezy and unwilling to answer my question. She didn't know how close I was to shooting Zsasz. LOL.
> 
> I was like: "Listen here YOU FUCKING....I'm about to shoot this man!"
> 
> I wish we had saved the side bar conversations after each session. Because a lot of that was comedy gold. =)
> 
> Nothing's better than the first taste, IMO.
> 
> ~FC
> 
> ________________________
> 
> Ugh. Yeah. This really was pretty great. Honestly. That Jim/FC/Deya makin’ Victor/owl/Jess work so DAMB hard for justa little taste. And seriously? Gordon got Zsasz chasin’ his perfect little &ss all over Gotham and now *he’s* upset about not gettin’ his question answered? *smirk*
> 
> That was pretty flippin’ fantastic. :D
> 
> I think it’s funny too ‘cause Victor and Jessica have a lot in common: I just wanna be clear. And with all due respect, Detective Gordon. I *did* answer your question. I just wanted to say “hi”. I *do* like you and just wanna get to know you a little better. *shrugs*
> 
> Ah, yes! And y’all! The way FC writes Penguin is inspired! (Naughty, naughty Jimbo!)
> 
> So much great stuff on the way, you guys. Thanks for stickin’ around and reading. Means a lot, y’all. -o-


	5. Boy Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim looks for a distraction from his thoughts. He heads out to relieve some tension only to be interrupted by his persistent stalker.
> 
> Victor attempts to finally get Jim all to himself, but his plans go awry.

—>z<—

Victor walks back down the stairwell after his encounter with Jim. He thinks about his eager mouth and how hard he was. Zsasz’s fingers twitch as he conjures the feel of Jim’s body and his scent.

How he _sounded_.

And _tasted_.

The way he _yielded_.

Before he _stopped_ himself.

Zsasz screws up his mouth and rubs his face when he realizes he’s giving entirely too much of his attention to the man, but it's hard not to. Jim confounds him. When he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs, he chides himself.

_You’re working, Zsasz. Snap out of it._

Victor expels a big sigh before he opens the door and returns to the lounge.

Penguin is still agitated. He nervously paces and chews a thumbnail in between swigs and swirling the liquor in his tumbler. When the kingpin sees Victor, he shoots him a subtle look and a tilt of the head. Zsasz quickly strides up, ready for his orders. Penguin quietly leans in and whispers.

“Victor, nothing’s changed. It’s imperative you to keep tabs on Detective Gordon —now more than ever.”

“On it.”

Victor steps outside with his Girls to coordinate Jim’s tail. He’ll obviously return to the precinct and eventually home —hopefully in the black Imperial. It'll be far easier to track than a taxi or something out of the GCPD motor pool. If the Girls failed locate it by the time Jim left, they’ll split up: one will follow Jim while the other two split up between the precinct and his apartment. Victor sticks around to alert them of Jim’s departure.

Zsasz returns back inside and plops into a booth. He entertains himself by watching the clueless rookie cops since he already cleaned his gun and has no more orders for his men. It's going to be a long night. He suddenly regrets not eating more before showing up.

Victor forces himself not to glance at the stairwell door every time he hears it open.

About a half hour later, he glances down at a group text:

_“parking lot 3 blocks down_

_splitting up now”_

Jim returns back downstairs. Zsasz takes note of his reddened ears, flushed face and clenching jaw, but the detective avoids eye contact with anyone who isn’t law enforcement before leaving. He narrows his brow and texts his Girls:

_"move_

_mark leaving now”_

Zsasz isn’t much of a talker. Despite that, he hangs out with Ivy because she’s chattier than Bridgit and he welcomes any distraction that will keep his mind off Jim. It also keeps the kid from setting off Penguin.

Zsasz learns a lot about Oswald’s new crew since Ivy doesn't have much of a filter. Bridgit’s thing is fire (which he figured with the flamethrower and all. He takes a mental note to talk to her about that sometime. He and his Girls have never tried fire before). Ivy did stuff with plants. (Victor quirks a brow when she tells him before recalling the effect she had on his men.) Finally, the other Victor (Freeze), well, freezes.

_“ditched car for cab”_

_“at the station_ ”

After the last of the law enforcement personnel leave, Ivy, Bridgit and Penguin return to the mansion. Victor stays back with a couple of his men. With Ivy gone, he finds it hard to keep his thoughts from Jim and what transpired upstairs. He absently rubs his index finger and thumb together deep in thought.

_He acts interested, then he blows you off. He even acts like he wants you to chase him. You catch up to him, he bolts. And earlier? Sure looked like a “yes” face to me._ _He’s acting like he’s scared. He’s gotten the jump on you twice —even taken out some of your best. A warrior like Jim Gordon would never be afraid of…_

Victor momentarily has a thought, but shakes his head and dismisses it.

It's now well after eleven and Zsasz hasn’t received another update. He doubts Jim would work this late —and if anyone could lose a tail, it was him. The potential setback (and his inability to keep his thoughts from Jim) only serve to frustrate Zsasz more. He clenches his jaw and sighs loudly. He really needs to blow off some steam.

He abruptly leaves the club and heads back up the block where he followed Jim. As luck would have it, the blonde in the white t-shirt is still out —and pleasantly surprised to see him.

Not long after, Zsasz waits for the flaxen-haired looker to join him on his V-Max. He decides to check his phone again and discovers two missed texts:

_“mark wearing black shirt & suit_

_took taxi”_

_“Scarlet’s_

_off the strip”_

Apparently, The Girls have everything under control. Zsasz stares at the final text for a while before furrowing his brow and looking over a shoulder to the blonde who now joins him on his Yamaha.

“Change of plans. I gotta do something first. Hang on.”

The blonde hugs his body against Zsasz's, tightly wrapping his arms around him before he speeds off.

—

Victor parks in a lot about a block from the cabaret. After dismounting his motorcycle, he instructs his companion to wait for him outside and assures him he won’t be long.

He strides up and into the strip club. He scans the men throughout the club receiving lap dances and ogling topless cocktail waitresses. A buxom redhead and a lithe brunette perform on either corner of the main stage. Zsasz tilts his head and arches a brow at the redhead as she slowly raises her ass and rises from the splits. He scans tables and booths looking for a black suit and shirt until he finally spies who he’s looking for.

There, alone at a table below the dancing brunette’s area, sits Jim Gordon nursing a beer.

Victor hangs back and briefly observes Jim, who pays little to no attention to the endless tits and ass that surrounded him —up to and including the brunette, who looks a little like Lee. Instead, Jim looks down at his beer, lost in thought.

Despite the fact Zsasz has willing company waiting outside and his Girls are watching, he can’t resist approaching Jim. He strides up to his table and plops himself into the empty seat beside him before matter-of-factly addressing him.

“You left in a hurry.”

Jim isn’t at all too surprised by Victor’s sudden presence in the strip bar. Given how often he's been followed by the man in the last day or so, it would be foolish to believe otherwise. He fully expects Victor to keep hounding him especially after what happened on the rooftop. He sits up and stares straight ahead, unsure of what to say to his persistent stalker.

He has a pretty good idea of what he wants to do to him, nothing nice or as fun as what they did earlier. He's had time to think about Oswald and the cover-up. He's certain Zsasz told the small kingpin everything.

Victor waits for a reply, but Jim only stares ahead. When Jim fails to answer, he leans across the table and positions his face directly in front of Jim’s. He arches a brow.

“Jim?”

Jim glances at Victor and grabs his drink; he takes a long swallow. He sets the bottle down as he rests an elbow on the table. He leans forward. He brings the tip of his thumb to his forehead and absently rubs his furrowed brow.

“I take it you told Oswald. The cover-up of that guard’s murder and the pimp in the alley. What a neat and tidy story for Penguin to use so he can hide what he’s done with Edward.”

Jim closes his eyes then opens them to peer over at Victor. He then adds with bitterness in his voice.

“So, are you following me for Penguin or because ‘you want to get to know me better’?”

He stares coolly back at Zsasz.

Victor retracts his facial muscles and pushes out his chin. He rubs down his face, sighing before reluctantly answering.

“Penguin only knows I saw someone do a pimp in a dumpster.”

Zsasz casually shrugs.

“And both”.

Jim clenches his jaw and looks away. His mind is having difficulty comprehending Victor’s audacity at his continual pursuit. He is doing his best to not deliver a right hook in response. He decides to get up and walk away.

Zsasz has had enough of Jim’s sudden departures. He immediately stands and grabs Jim’s arm to pull him back to face him.

“Trying to talk here, Jim.”

Jim eyes search Victor’s. His anger is barely containable but he takes a deep breath. His scowl holds fast as he leans in and growls.

“You didn’t rat me out? That little shit threatened me in the stairwell! He's lucky I didn’t wring his little neck. Anything I say or do with you is just more ammo against me for your boss to use.”

Watching Jim get worked up only fans the flame. Victor wants to coil his arms around him and shove his tongue down Jim's throat again, but this isn’t the time or the place. Victor snarls.

“I _work_ for Penguin. He doesn’t _own_ me. _This_ … (arching a brow and pointing a finger to the floor for emphasis) is between _me_ (pointing a thumb back at himself then an index finger at Jim) and _you_.”

Jim winces as the grip on his arm clamps down harder. He's jerked in closer as the assassin's intense and searing gaze penetrates him.

Victor hardens his face.

“You think Don Falcone knows I went to see you before he ordered the hit on you?”

Jim’s scowl fades as Victor’s words slowly start sinking in. The reality of Victor’s past action now really setting in.

_Did he have a thing for me back then?_

His shoulders relax as he chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah, I’ve always wondered that.”

Jim sighs as he pulls his arm out of Victor's grip. He returns to the table and slowly slides back into his chair. He brings both elbows up on the surface and rests his forehead in the palms of his hands.

After a couple of moments of gathering his thoughts, he takes the last few swallows of his forgotten drink. He peers over at Zsasz. The man is clearly agitated over how badly this exchange went. Jim scoffs and offers him a smile.

Victor rubs the back of his head, before pointedly looking down at the chair he just vacated and glancing back to Jim.

Jim leans back in his chair and nods to the seat next to him.

Victor lightly rests his fingers on his chest.

“ _Thank_ you.”

Zsasz takes the chair next to Jim’s and turns it so that it faces him. As he sits, he drags it close to Jim and leans in.

“So.

 _Earlier_?”

He stretches a smile and bites his lower lip before replying suggestively.

“That was fun, right?”

Jim laughs and turns his head to look into Victor’s eyes. He bites his lower lip for a second as his gaze slips down to his lips then back to his eyes.

“It was.”

His eyes settle back to Victor’s lips and stay there.

_Fuck it all. I want him._

What is left of his common sense and willpower retaliate against his inevitable surrender. Jim averts his gaze and takes in a long breath.

“We can’t do that again. Things are complicated enough. I have an image to uphold and…”

Jim purses his lips together and looks back to the dancing brunette. He knows it was far too late for that. He’s done things that could have him hauled off to Blackgate.

“So do I, Jim.”

Jim keeps his eyes on the dancing naked brunette as he responds.

“I’m suffering from residual effects of the Tetch Virus. I’m barely hanging on.”

He takes a deep breath and says in a whisper more to himself than to Victor.

“I have urges that overtake me. I feel...”

Jim shakes his head then brings up a hand to rub the back of his neck. He’s certain he’s confessing too much to the assassin. However, it’s relief to confide in someone. If he told Harvey or Fox any of this, he would be in therapy and definitely locked up.

His offers Victor an apologetic look. He wants to end his own rambling; he flags down a nearby waitress.

A petite blonde hustles over already carrying a loaded tray of empty bottles and glasses.

“What would you like, handsome?”

She gives him a large smile.

“I would like a whiskey.”

He peers over at Victor.

“Want anything? I’m buying.”

Victor arches a brow before stretching a wide toothy grin.

“How could I turn down an offer like that?”

He smiles at the blonde and replies.

“A club soda with a lime, please.”

Jim gives Victor a large smile. The waitress shakes her head as she walks away.

Victor tilts his head and eyes Jim up and down before arching an eyebrow.

“So Jim, what do you _‘feel’_?”

Jim reclines back in his chair and places both hands behind his head. He props a foot up on the empty chair to his other side. Nothing of what he was feeling had a presence before the infection.

_I’ve given into my urges this far, why not go all the way? I need to feel his hands and lips on me again._

“I feel like repeating what we did on the roof.”

Victor’s body ignites. He wants Jim. _Right. Now_. He feels the deep, low pang and imagines himself balls deep inside the man, fingers curled tightly around his neck as he fucks him senseless. He can practically feel Jim’s erratic pulse and his tight heat clenched around his dick.

The moment Victor reaches to drag Jim out of the club and take him somewhere he can rip his clothes off, a familiar voice interrupts.

“ _There_ you are! You said you’d only be a minute.”

Victor’s companion plops himself on his lap and wraps his arms possessively around the assassin’s neck. The blonde looks Jim up and down and purses his lips before leaning into Victor’s ear and suggestively asking.

“You bringing someone for us to play with?”

Victor blinks slowly and hardens his jaw, staring straight ahead as he responds through gritted teeth.

“I told you to wait outside.”

The blonde leans in close and rubs his chest as he pouts.

“But I got lonely.”

Victor looks to the side and slowly rubs his forehead trying to contain his rage.

Jim’s eyes pop wide open, he feels as though a bucket of ice water has been dumped on him. He sits up and leans forward placing both elbows on the table. He feels a huge lump in his throat. He looks away from the two men beside him and tries to swallow down the imaginary obstruction. He hears Zsasz scold the young and undeniably gorgeous man on his lap. Jim begins chewing on his lower lip; jealousy and anger start to percolate in his mind.

_He brought a date to come talk to me? I’m an idiot. Goddamn —fucking idiot!_

The waitress comes back with the drinks and quickly sets them down. She looks at the blonde and asks.

“Would you like something to drink, honey?”

She gives the youthful man an odd look. Her eyes quickly scan Jim and Victor before offering an uncomfortable smile.

Jim’s obvious interest in and jealousy regarding Victor compel the blonde to flaunt his prize. Zsasz’s interest in Jim is also plainly evident, so he wraps himself more tightly around the assassin.

“Well, I know _this drink here_ … (tilting his head to Zsasz) ...is a _strong, stiff_ one, but I want to know a little more about _this other one_ … (glancing to Jim). That is, if he’s on the menu.”

Jim smiles at the waitress and says.

“We’re good. Sorry about that.”

He hands her money and tells her to keep the change. He then brings his whiskey to his lips and swallows it in its entirety.

Victor is incensed. There is no way in hell he is getting Jim alone now. This time, however, he has no one to blame but himself.

_You have got to be fucking kidding me._

When the blonde leans in and begins kissing his neck, he’s had enough. Zsasz forcefully grabs his arm, gives him a hard look and growls.

“I told you to _wait. out. side._ I’ll be there when I’m _done_.”

He yanks the blonde uncomfortably close to his face, snarling.

“ _Got_ it?”

Victor’s eyes flash threateningly and his grip is excruciating. When he finally releases his grip, his captive nods meekly and stands with as much dignity as he can muster before scurrying back outside.

Victor looks down momentarily before returning his gaze to Jim and sighing.

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

Jim stands, he casts his eyes towards the exit as he quickly addresses Victor.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. Goodbye, Zsasz.”

Jim melts into the crowd and disappears out of the club.

Zsasz watches on as Jim quickly leaves.

_Again._

After the detective makes his way out of the cabaret, Zsasz looks down at the floor. He screws up his mouth and absently takes a swig of his club soda. He stares at nothing for a little while, before suddenly rearing back his leg and slamming Jim’s empty seat into the next table —sending customers and cocktail waitresses scattering.

He puffs out a big sigh and swallows down the rest of his club soda before standing. He strides back outside to go deal with the blonde. The moment Zsasz steps foot outside the club, he spies the young man trekking back to his V-Max. Victor pulls out a fifty and walks up to a nearby taxi. He opens the door and hands the driver the money.

“Where ya headed?”

“It’s not for me. Be right back.”

The driver nods in acknowledgment.

Victor quickly strides up to the blonde from behind and grabs his arm, yanking him back and disorienting him momentarily. Before the young man has time to protest or react, Zsasz clamps down on his closest arm. In a panic, the blonde flails and tries to free himself from Victor’s unrelenting grip. When he finds he can’t, his legs go weak and he slumps.

Victor hoists the blonde back up and proceeds to drag him half a block back to the cab. Snarling through clenched teeth, he repeats his previous instructions before shoving the young man into the taxi’s open door.

“I _told_ you to _wait_ _outside_.”

The driver takes a worried glance back at the blonde before hesitantly addressing Zsasz.

“Where to?”

Zsasz snarls before slamming the taxi door.

“I don’t give a shit.”

Zsasz spins on his heel to return to his Yamaha, Jim’s words swirling around his head.

_“I feel like repeating what we did on the roof.”_

He clenches his jaw and seethes on the walk back. He’s only a few yards away from his bike when he passes two men, one of them catcalling.

“What’s the matter, faggot? You and your boyfriend have a spat?”

The other one snickers.

Zsasz stops for a moment before turning to face the men. He’s not sure if it’s the homophobia or the disrespect that sets him off, but it's definitely the last fucking straw in this debacle.

_A man who enjoys dick doesn’t make him less of a man, but being a disrespectful asshole does._

He coolly walks up to the closest man who’s holding his hands up mockingly and taunting him.

“Uh oh! Looks like I hurt someone’s feelings!”

In a flash, Zsasz unsheathes his karambit and quickly stabs the man multiple times in the gut. The man’s eyes first widen in shock, then confusion, and finally, horror before going lifeless. His face and his body go slack. Before the man falls, the assassin feels his victim’s abdomen soften. The man’s warm blood spills past Victor’s gloves and trickles down to his forearm, soaking the cuff of his sleeve. He can practically taste its metallic scent, the air thick with the smell of the man's blood.

The once snickering man goes silent, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed in horror. He turns to run the moment the reality of the situation sinks in, but trips and falls in his panic. Zsasz coolly abandons the first man and casually walks over to the second, now face down and struggling desperately to get back up.

Victor bends down, grabs his shoulder and yanks him over so that he’s on his back. The wide-eyed man raises up his hands in surrender and pleads.

“Look, man. I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any dis—“

The man never finishes his sentence because Victor heaves up his leg and stomps his face with the heel of his boot over and over until the pleading turns to screaming, then to whimpering and eventually, silence.

When Victor finally stops, he calmly inhales and exhales a big breath. He apathetically gazes down at what was once a snickering man. In its place lie a corpse with a broken nose, jaw and neck. Its mangled, concave face has barely any skin left. Zsasz tilts his head and dispassionately peers down at the exposed facial muscles, broken cranial bones and the few skull prominences that remain intact. Victor casually arches a brow and pulls down the corners of his mouth before returning to his bike.

During the brief trek to his Yamaha, Zsasz is annoyed by the irksome soft tissue now embedded in the tread of his favorite boots. He scowls, momentarily wondering if he should try to dig it out later or just buy another pair before he shrugs and climbs back on his bike.

As Victor rides off, one of his Girls calls the other (now tailing Jim).

“Good thing you didn’t text him about the blonde or give him shit about recruiting another stripper.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER, oh boy. This was where we purposely implemented a failure for Zsasz. His little boytoy. At first it was just to add some drama and to make difficult for them to conveniently hook up. I think over the course of the fic, this chapter really shines in my eyes. This is where Jim finally sees at what lengths Victor will go to win him over and MAYBE... JUST MAYBE...get that booty. :3
> 
> ~FC
> 
> _________________
> 
> Ah yes. Boy Toy. How could I forget?
> 
> Honestly, my not-so-inner Zsasz was *really* gettin’ pretty frustrated, truth be told. (It’s probably why those &sshole homophobes got it as badly as they did. And let’s face it, y’all, can’t every last one of us picture Zsasz doing such a thing?)
> 
> And that Jim Gordon: the hardest lay in all of Gotham! MY GOODNESS! He got Zsasz all strung out! And c’mon, Jim. Really now. This is Victor Zsasz we’re talkin’ about. He *never* stops. 
> 
> “It’s an inevitability, Jim! Embrace it!”
> 
> -o-


	6. Excelsior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim wanders the crowded strip looking to rid his sour mood over the unexpected turn of events with Zsasz.
> 
> Victor’s Girls send text updates that prompt him to take matters into his own hands.

—>j<—

Jim walks amongst the crowds of drunk and rowdy people; music from the club-lined streets saturate the air along with laughter and shouting. His mind is a mess from Victor and his companion. He’s still beating himself up over his lapse in judgement with Zsasz. He was about to suggest they go back to his apartment; unfortunately ( _or fortunately rather?),_ his young date came sauntering in to kill the mood.

_It’s just as well, keeps me from making one more bad decision._

His mind keeps replaying their kiss on the roof. The way Victor moved as he closed in on him, _that smile_ and the forceful way he grabbed him. The feel of his body against his own. How he melted into Victor’s sweet warm lips. Jim swears he can still feel Victor’s arms wrapped around him.

Jim also can’t get over how disappointed Victor looked when he accused him of snitching to Oswald. He was sure that Zsasz told his boss everything. Now that he thinks about it, Penguin never mentioned he knew that he killed the guard or pimp.

_Oswald was just acting his typical self and I mistook that for him blackmailing me —shit. Between Zsasz and me, I’m the one acting like the villain. A complete jackass._

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears someone shout his name.

“Detective Gordon! Hey! Jim!”

He halts and looks around. He spies Sean standing outside of an establishment with a handful of other people. The young man is waving and jumping up and down. Jim smiles as the boy falls into his friends. He walks over to the gathering and notices they all are already a sheet to the wind.

“Sean. What are you doing in this area?”

The boy is obviously drunk. He is laughing and hanging onto a friend who is equally intoxicated.

“I’m celebrating my twenty-first birthday! My buddies here decided to take me out to party. I’m also celebrating the dis-disappearance of Jason. My pimp! Did you (hiccups) have something to do with that?”

The boy points a crooked finger as he squints one eye at him.

Jim smiles and shrugs.

“I told him to get lost.”

Sean stumbles over to Jim and hangs onto him. The detective wraps an arm around the lithe drunk youth and holds him up.

“Jim! Jim! Jim! Hang out with us! We are about to go into the Prime Rib here. Come have a drink with us!”

The other boys are already making their way into the establishment.

Jim's foul mood over the unexpected rendezvous with Victor and his date hasn't dissipated. He surprises himself when he blurts out.

“Love to.”

He helps Sean walk to the entrance. The boy turns to him with a mischievous smirk and whispers.

“I’m not really drunk. I’m just pretending. You smell great by the way.”

Jim laughs as he lets the boy go and opens the door to the club.

The club’s filled with women and some men, present for the show of muscular and well-endowed male strippers. The music thumps heavy beats as lights and a fog machine add to the ambience of the routines. Jim glances at the stage as the lights go out then a sexy and smoky voice shouts.

“Did someone call the G...C...P...D?!”

Three spotlights kick on. Three strippers in police uniforms are in a pose, each holding up plastic guns. The music then kicks on: it’s a fast number called “ _Blue Steel”_ by Excision & Downlink. Jim knows this song well; all the young rookies play it in the weight room. He chuckles as he watches the strippers do their routine amongst the screaming hordes of women and men.

The small band makes their way to the back to a couple of tables where two other guys are waiting.

Jim sits at a corner next to a man who’s reclining and clapping his hands as Sean mimics the strippers in a goofy way.

“Hey guys, this is my friend, Detective Jim Gordon. I made him come drink with us.”

Sean points at Jim then promptly heads to the bar with a couple of his friends to order drinks.

The man next to him turns in his seat to face him and offers a smile. Jim glances at him and smiles; he feels his face flush with heat. The man looks familiar, but he can’t place where he has seen him. He is unbelievably attractive: dark olive skin, thick manicured eyebrows, dark eyes and head full of thick, wavy, black hair. He has a short beard that tapers close to his flawless skin. He obviously took care of himself judging by his muscular build. Even though they are both sitting, he can tell this man is tall; he has a good three inches on him. Jim finds himself staring.

“Detective?”

He also has a heavy Italian accent.

_Holy fuck._

“Yes.”

Jim smiles as his eyes search the stranger’s next to him.

“Wait! You’re the one who stopped the Tetch Virus outbreak!”

Jim nods and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. The man extends a hand as he leans in closer, a large smile graces his heavenly features. The detective feels himself blushing like a teenage boy in front of a longtime crush.

“Thank you! You…”

The man takes a moment to steady himself and continues.

“You saved my sister and mother. The city owes you a debt and I would like to buy your next round of drinks. Please, allow me this small courtesy. I only wish there was more I could do to repay you.”

Jim takes the offered hand and shakes it.

“Please, it’s just my job but I wouldn’t mind a drink or two. What’s your name?”

“Gabrielle Ricci.”

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

“I’m a model. You may have seen me in those Hugo Boss ads all over Gotham.”

Jim smiles and nods. He feels himself blushing harder.

“Ah, yes. That’s it.”

The man stands; he smiles and bites his lower lip. He eyes Jim up and down then says with a large smile.

“Come; let’s get those drinks then enjoy the show.”

Jim can’t help but stare at the man as they make their way to the crowded bar. He wears a tight black shirt with the long sleeves pulled up to his elbows, dark jeans and boots, his arms adorned with tattoos and leather bracelets. The man even smells good: a combination of Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, effervescent greens and lemon verbena.

_Well, at least now I know it’s not just Zsasz who can set me off._

His mind brings up the earlier scene of the blonde on Victor’s lap, tightly wrapped around him. Jim clenches his jaw and imagines grabbing the boy toy by the face and throwing him off Zsasz’s lap. He wanted to break all of the young man's fingers for touching Victor. He wanted to do so many bad things to the taunting little fuck boy.

Jim rolls his shoulders back and cracks his neck.

_Relax, you have your own hot distraction for the night in front of you. Forget about Zsasz._

They watch the show as they enjoy their drinks. Jim finds himself relaxed and having a good time, his company not once leaving his side. Gabrielle sits close to him with his arm over the back of his chair. Jim is drowning in his scent and heat; he’s been sporting a boner for the last thirty minutes. Gabrielle turns to Jim.

“Are you into men, Jim Gordon?”

Jim almost spits out his drink but manages to recover.

“I’m... well...”

Gabrielle’s arm comes off the back of the chair and settles on Jim’s shoulders. His senses are drowning in heady plumes of lust and desire. The hand around his shoulders starts stroking his arm. Jim smiles and offers apologetically.

"I’m sorry. I don’t know how to answer that. It’s hard to explain.”

“You’re still discovering your sexuality, I understand. I will then act accordingly. You’re new to your exploration; I will refrain from aggressive flirting. I am very attracted to you; this will prove to be very difficult.”

Jim laughs and gazes into his dark eyes.

_Victor’s eyes are just as dark but deeper. Damn it, stop it!_

The man leans in slowly; Jim does as well. Their lips meet in a soft kiss; Gabrielle’s arm brings him in closer. They both pull back slightly and look each other in the eyes. Gabrielle’s free hand comes up and holds Jim’s face as he leans in for another kiss. This time, their tongues play with each other. Jim runs a hand through the man’s soft lustrous locks as his other arm wraps around the tall man’s shoulders. Gabrielle’s practically pulling him up off his chair as they kiss. Jim finds himself halfway on the man’s lap.

All the teasing and tension of the night has Jim ready to fuck. He pulls from the kiss and asks between heavy breaths.

“Shall we go? Your place or mine?”

The man smiles and stands while pulling Jim up with him.

“I have a hotel room I’m staying at. Come. I can’t wait to teach you a few things, my handsome detective.”

They begin walking out of the club, waving at Sean and the others who all seem too drunk to notice. The model wraps an arm around Jim’s shoulders as they exit the club; he places a kiss on his neck. Jim feels his erection throb angrily in his pants.

“I’ve only had two drinks. I hope you don’t bust me for driving.”

Jim smiles and looks him up and down.

“You’re a big man. I’m sure those two beers are nonexistent in your system.”

The man plants a kiss on his lips. They walk to the parking lot a block away. Gabrielle’s car is a silver Tesla model S. Jim whistles in appreciation, Gabrielle winks at him as he rounds to the driver’s side.

Inside the car, Jim is about to capture his lips once more when his phone rings in his pocket. He fishes out the phone to see who’s calling.

“One moment; it’s my captain.”

He brings the phone to his ear.

“Harvey.”

“Jim, good news. I got the commissioner to convince the mayor to halt the investigation into The Riddler. For now. We got other problems, compadre. Turf wars are startin’ to get bad in east and south Gotham, right where shippin’ docks are located. Buddy, I need you to come in early morning around four. The GCPD collective will _all_ be attendin’. We need to squash these cells fast.”

Jim brings his watch up and sees that the meeting is in two and a half hours. He gives Gabrielle a look.

“Okay, I'll be there. See you in a couple of hours.”

He shoves his phone in his pocket and offers his companion an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I need to head home to get ready for an early morning meeting.”

“It’s okay. I understand. It sounds most serious. Your captain is a loud talker and I have excellent hearing.”

Gabrielle smiles at him and leans in for a kiss: Jim meets him halfway. After their long passionate exchange, the model pulls back.

Well, can I at least offer you a ride back to your home?”

Jim smiles and nods.

“Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”

They arrive in front of Jim’s building.

“Here; it’s my personal cell number.”

Gabrielle takes out a card from his wallet and holds it out.

“Call me when you have free time. I will be in town for another few weeks before I head to Europe.”

Jim takes his card and leans in; he kisses him one last time. He reluctantly pulls back.

“The instant I get free time, I will be calling you. That’s for damn sure.”

 

—>z<—

After the debacle with Jim at the strip club and those two homophobic assholes, Victor finds himself restless. He rides around going no place in particular until he realizes he’s famished. He stops at his favorite all-night diner, Bessie’s. One of Zsasz’s first hits was Miss Bessie’s abusive ex. She opened the diner with the insurance money. Victor’s been a regular ever since.

Bessie smiles at him from the kitchen as he walks in and takes a seat at the counter. It's a slow night and she only has one other patron at a booth so she walks over to visit with him.

“Victor! What can I getcha tonight, honey?”

He seriously considers a cheeseburger and fries with a milkshake after the way everything went to shit with Jim at the cabaret. Just as he starts to tell her, he internally hears his bubbie admonish him with the Torah.

_"You may not cook a young animal in the milk of its mother."_

He blinks and guiltily screws up his mouth before puffing out a huge sigh.

“Justa burger and fries tonight.”

“You wanna milkshake, baby?”

He looks up at her briefly before shaking his head and giving a half-hearted reply.

“No, Bessie. Just a soda. Thanks.”

The older woman furrows a brow at Victor’s uncharacteristic mood. He’s usually breezy and affable, even _affectionate_  when he visits. Tonight, he’s sullen, distracted and grim. He barely makes eye contact with her. She takes a moment to regard his appearance. He is a bloody mess _—literally_.

“Rough night at work, honey?”

Victor screws up his mouth and looks up to find Bessie arching a brow at his hands. He looks down at his blood-covered gloves and shakes his head.

“Oh. No. Just… Nothin’.”

Zsasz gets up and heads for the restroom. He makes a half-hearted attempt at wiping down his leather gloves, before shoving them in his back pocket to wash his hands. Victor can’t stop thinking about Jim, his scent, his mouth and his body. He still can’t believe a night that started out with so much promise wound up going so badly.

 _“I feel like repeating what we did on the roof.”_  

_“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. Goodbye, Zsasz.”_

When he shuffles back to his seat at the counter, he finds a huge slice of his favorite pie waiting for him. It’s the apple pie Bessie makes with the brown sugar topping. She even heated it for him.

After inhaling his food and a couple of refills later, he finds his mood lighter and disposition improved.

He checks his phone and finds the following updates:

_"male strip club_

_with a group_

_drinks_

_real cozy with a guy_

_6 ft+ black hair & beard _

_really attractive_

_do we know him? looks familiar_

_handsy_

_lots of groping_

_mark is definitely into this guy_

_mark leaving with him_

_hookup maybe?_

_in Tesla”_

Correction. His disposition _was_ better. The updates inflame the assassin. He feels the heat flash in his gut and can taste the bile rising in his throat. Zsasz’s jealousy flares as more texts drop in.

_“hookup_

_mark is at home with brunette”_

_“Mark is home._

_Is that a Tesla?_

_Wow. Fancy.”_

 

Zsasz scowls and immediately responds:

_“is mark with him now?”_

_“no_

_alone_

_tesla gone”_

 

Victor fires off another text:

_“follow mark & brunette” _

 

_“I’ve got the brunette now._

_Tesla en route.”_

 

Zsasz trusts his Girls implicitly, but it takes every ounce of will he has not to hop on his V-Max and head for Jim’s apartment. He briefly clenches his fists and his jaw. When he hears his teeth brux, he unclenches his jaw and discovers his masseters tight. He runs his hand down his mouth and rubs out his jaw. Victor takes a big breath in an effort to calm himself.

_The Girls have it handled. Just wait._

Victor considers himself fairly laid-back, so his growing impatience for more updates surprises him. He firmly rubs his brow and puffs out a long frustrated huff. After a while, he realizes he’s been incessantly bouncing his leg and rubbing his index finger and thumb together for the past ten minutes or so.

Zsasz envisions a swarthy, dark-haired stranger having his way with Jim. It rankles him. He grits his teeth again and immediately leaves the diner after receiving the following update:

_“Hotel Excelsior_

_Room 865”_

Bessie arches a brow at Zsasz’s hasty exit and shakes her head.

_Somebody’s about to have a night they’ll never forget._

She walks from behind the counter. Bessie meticulously cleans every surface with which Victor came into contact: the counter, his stool and the sink in the bathroom. She empties the garbage and mops up his bloody footprints. She even takes out a pail of soapy water outside the diner to clean the stoop and sidewalk.

_—_

Not long after leaving Bessie’s, Victor stands before the door of room 865 and knocks.

“Room service.”

A stunning bearded man in a black shirt and jeans opens it.

“There must be some mistake. I didn’t order room serv—.”

Victor shoves his foot in the door and forces his way into the room, taking the man by surprise and clearly alarming him.

_I can definitely see the appeal, Jim._

“Wh-What are you doing? You can’t be in here!”

Victor tilts his head, arches a brow at the competition and sucks his teeth.

_Accent to boot. Italian._

The assassin casually walks around and nods appreciatively as he takes in the sumptuous suite. Victor also glances at some of the personal items he has lying about. He mentally notes the man hasn’t showered since his night out and didn’t smell of sex —just his personal scent and a little alcohol.

“I’m going to call the police.”

Zsasz rubs a leathered index finger beneath his chin before pointing it and addressing the competition.

“See, that’s actually why I’m here. I understand we have a mutual friend:

Detective Jim Gordon.”

The gorgeous man first blinks in surprise before getting a better look at the stranger’s gloved hand. The man blinks and swallows thickly.

_Is that… blood?_

The brunette examines the stranger more closely. He notices the dried blood on his wrist. Just past it is a blood-soaked cuff. He furrows his brow and takes a moment to fully regard the disquieting and intimidating man standing in his hotel room.

The brunette’s eyes widen at the telltale signs of blood spatter that his black jacket barely masks, even in the soft lighting of the room. The stranger even appears to have blood on his pants. When his eyes finally arrive at Victor’s bloody boots, his jaw drops at the gruesome sight of what appears to be skin and hair attached to one of his soles.

The man gulps before reluctantly looking up to face the intruder.

“I-I-I’m terribly sorry. There must be some mistake. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before.”

Zsasz puffs out a quiet snort. He arches his brow and gives the man a measured nod.

“Oh. Apologies then. My mistake.”

He stretches a sinister smile and gives the man a blood-soaked wave before he exits. Just before closing the door behind him, Zsasz peeks around the door and teases the man in a singsong voice.

“Goodnight! Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”

On his way out of the hotel, Victor’s confident the brunette will no longer be a problem. The assassin prefers to ensure the man will never, _ever_ be a problem again. However, given Jim’s occupation, Jim's savvy and his recent encounter with the man, Zsasz isn’t about to tempt fate. Victor learned plenty about the man during his brief stroll around his suite: Gabrielle Ricci is a model who's going to be in Gotham for a few more weeks. Zsasz caught a glimpse of his itinerary. He has _plenty_ of time to deal with Mr. Hot Italian Model if it comes down to it.

There's no question that the man is handsome, but it's also painfully evident that he has no fight to speak of. He's obviously more interested in looking pretty, smelling nice and his own self-preservation.

 _He just rolled right over and showed his belly when I confronted him. Kean had more balls, and I even_ kidnapped _her for Don Falcone._

_Jim deserves better._

Still, Victor is curious as to why Jim chose not to hook-up with him after how badly things went at the strip club. Zsasz furrows a brow when he recalls how far south it all went. To make matters worse, he suddenly remembers puncturing Jim’s tires earlier. About that time, another text drops in:

_“mark at precinct”_

Victor arches a brow at the text.

_So that’s why._

Zsasz arranges his Girls’ replacements before sending them a group text to notify them. He informs them he’ll catch up with them later. By the time Victor returns to his Yamaha, he gets an idea of how he might extend an olive branch to Jim (and perhaps even get to understand him a little better). He starts the engine and heads for an old haunt.

—

Zsasz jogs up to the palatial establishment and is granted immediate access. Trance-like electronic music pulses in the background. In the foyer stands a tall, lissome hostess with rich, umber skin. She's outfitted in a short, black halter-neck latex dress and peep toe platform stilettos as she checks invitations.

After granting two patrons entry, she turns to him and smiles warmly. He returns her smile, walks up to her and kisses her cheek.

“Fayizah, I need to get an invitation.”  
  
She responds with a throaty alto.

“Right down to business is it then? Victor, unlike the others, you know our establishment does not require _you_ to have an invitation.”

“It’s not for me.”

She arches an eyebrow.

“For a _friend_ , then?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

—

Once home, Victor methodically carves and counts.

“Seventy-three… Seventy-four….”

Only after he retracts the blade of his boxcutter and puts it away, does he reach into his jacket to pull out and study the embossed invitation to the Foxglove.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planted Gabrielle as a seed that Jim could possibly be attracted to normal men and not just Victor (and maybe Oswald), because of Tetch Virus fluke.
> 
> He DOES have a habit of 'sticking his dick in crazy' though. I mean...come on. It is his weakness. =)
> 
> *bows apologetically* UMMMMM not calling Zsasz crazy or nothing!!
> 
> *cups hand to mouth and whispers* But he really is...
> 
> Owl writes Zsasz so beautifully and darkly. She writes his death dealing and torture as a matter of fact thing that needs no dwelling on.
> 
> Victor's a busy man and just doesn't have time.
> 
> It's when he's confronted with something that puts him out of his norm is when he starts having internal dialogue and is taken aback. This reminds of American Psycho for some reason.
> 
> Fucking Owl is a god damn master at Zsasz.
> 
>  
> 
> ~FC
> 
> ________________________
> 
> So, first things first, y’all: I’m a gentile. If I got anything wrong with my Torah reference or any related kosher dietary considerations, lemme know so I can fix it, please and thanks! Same thing with any other errors. FC & I don’t have a beta-reader so TAG! You’re the proverbial “it”!
> 
> Blame it on my not-so-inner Zsasz, but I won’t lie: I was none-too-happy about the addition of this purty boy and yet *another* obstacle for me to get my hands on some of that sweet Jim Gordon bootie. *sucks teeth and takes an annoyed look to the side*
> 
> And c’mon! Everybody knows my Zsaszy’s all-the-way cray! Like FO’ REAL REAL CRAY! We ARE talkin’ a homicidal maniac and sadist of the highest professional standards here, remember? :D 
> 
> And FC! *STAHP, GURL!* You make me blush! HUSH! YOU! You and your deliciously conflicted Jim, your perfectly rendered Bullock and impudent Oswald?! If I only had a fraction of your talent for dialogue and humor. (Y’all, like SERIOUSLY, I can’t wait for y’all to read some of the sh!t FC has in store for you with her amazing Harvey Bullock. You’re gonna L<3VE IT!)  
> 


	7. The Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor tries to make up for past mistakes by extending Jim an olive branch in hopes the detective will come around.
> 
> Jim and Harvey deal with unexpected events concerning gang wars.

 

—>j<—

Jim hurries into his apartment to shower. He stands in the cold stream to help himself reenergize for the full day ahead. His thoughts travel back to Victor and his young companion. Jim could tell that Zsasz was pissed that his plans with him were ruined by his boytoy.

_I’m no one’s toy. Victor is just greedy. Fuck him._

Jim knows his internal statement is wrought with jealousy. He focuses his thoughts on Gabrielle.

_He’s the best choice for me. No secrets or tension, a normal hook-up. God, he’s so attractive._

Another voice whispers in his head in a husky dark tone.

_Normal? You can’t do normal. Quit kidding yourself._

Jim shuts off the water and dresses. He calls a cab and heads early to the precinct to talk to Harvey before the meeting. He enters the building and makes his way to the captain's office.

“Jim!”

“Harvey, so how bad are these cells?”

“We have multiple locations of all out shootouts. I’m hoping to get things under control very soon. Right now, it’s small disputes, but the rate of these occurrences have been increasing in the last few days. Shipment heists from the docks have also increased. I hate to say this, but I really miss Carmine Falcone these days.”

“At least the crime in the city didn’t endanger innocent lives over turf when he was the Don.”

Jim plops on the seat in front of Harvey. The gruff man looks over Jim with a wry grin.

“You okay buddy? You look like shit.”

Jim smiles and nods. He can’t remember the last time he had some restful sleep. Though his mind was a mess, his body didn’t feel exhausted.

“This is how I normally look, Harv. It _is_ three forty-five in the morning.”

“That’s for damn sure! Let’s go get some coffee and doughnuts before this recall meeting happens.”

The day proves to be long and eventful. The GCPD is able to stymie several faction squabbles to the south and to the east. Jim and Harvey assist where they can but mostly handle extreme cases. 

Jim sits in the locker room having enjoyed a hot shower after a twelve-hour shift. He contemplates going home to sleep or staking-out Oswald.

_Or you can call Gabrielle and schedule some fun instead._

Jim digs into his locker and takes out his clothing for the night. He dons a black knit sweater, black pants, and boots. He threads his arms through a hoodie and his black leather jacket. He grabs a beanie, his personal guns, and his night-time goggles. He’s made up his mind to go surveil Oswald’s hideout. Despite Harvey calling off the investigation, Jim wants to keep his eye on Penguin and crew.

_Who are you kidding? You want to see Zsasz again. You can just stop all this and call Gabrielle._

Jim slams his locker door closed and makes a hasty exit from the precinct. He hails a cab and makes his way towards the old Sirens building.

Once he’s about four blocks away, he stops the cab to get out. He makes his way through dark alleyways. He accesses a building across from the hideout and positions himself on the roof.

He sees lights on at the club and some side alley movement. He brings his night-vision goggles up. There’s an exchange of two pairs of guards. The pairs then walk in the opposite of each other around the circumference of the building.

_Oswald vamped up his security. No telling how many he has inside._

Jim hunkers down and continues to watch, waiting for anything suspicious to enter or exit. He hears the roar of a motorcycle coming down the street. It turns into the alleyway near the building and stops in front of the side exit. He sees that it’s Victor, his walk distinct even through the night-vision filter.

_Zsasz._

Jim sits down and retrieves the phone he stole from the guard he killed. He contemplates sending Victor a text. He thinks a bit, then finally opens the small phone.

_There’s no harm in at least warning him about the gang wars._

He begins texting.

“ _Turf wars are getting bad out there…”_

_...Heads up.”_

He hits send. He stares at the screen for a minute. He sees that Victor is now actively texting back. The little bubble with three dots flash on the display.

 

—>z<—

Victor finds the next day after the strip club debacle uneventful. One of his Girls (Tasha) is loosely tailing Jim since he's on duty. He apparently has his hands full with various turf battles around Gotham. Zsasz is already aware of them, thanks to his numerous contacts throughout the city. Since the kingpin is more concerned about keeping his frozen captive a secret, he's adamant that security be concentrated around the club. That frees up Victor and his Girls to tail Jim and keep an eye on the mansion.

Zsasz is interested in learning more about Freeze, but Penguin keeps him too busy with the Nygmacicle _—something about an iceberg, a lounge, a centerpiece_? He wasn’t really listening.

During his downtime, Victor breaks into Jim’s car to hot-wire it so he can have it detailed. He also arranges to have all four of Jim’s tires replaced. He doesn’t snoop much —mostly because Jim didn’t have much to look through: just a few receipts, an insurance card, a small first aid kit, a window scraper, a tire gauge, some takeout napkins and petrified french fries on the floor.

After returning Jim’s sedan to the same parking spot, he places the Foxglove invitation on the driver’s seat and locks it.  

Victor also stops by the Van Dahl estate for awhile to check on his Girls there and to make sure things are in order. Word's now gotten out that Penguin is actually alive and looking to regain his foothold in Gotham. With various groups vying for territory, Zsasz wouldn’t put it past anyone to initiate a power grab and challenge the kingpin.

Zsasz returns to the club later that night. Just as he walks into it, another one of his Girls (Xochitl) texts him that Jim’s prowling around the area. Victor lightly puffs out a laugh and shakes his head.

_Just can’t stop detecting can you, Jim?_

Another text comes in. He assumes it’s Xochitl again, but it’s from a dead man: Cyril (who Jim shot).

“ _Turf wars are getting bad out there…_

_... Heads up.”_

 

Zsasz arches a brow and curls up one side of his mouth.

_Well I’ll be damned. How thoughtful, Jim._

Victor can’t help but reply.

_“thx_

_so nice of you to look out for me   : )_

_btw you don’t have to pay for anymore taxis”_

 

 _— >_j<—

Jim raises an eyebrow and gives the text message a hard look. Confusion is the first to hit him, then he realizes he means his car is useable again. He closes the phone and shakes his head. He has no intention of replying to his response.

“Yeah, thanks.”

_I guess I deserved those punctured tires._

He chuckles under his breath.

Jim shoves the dead man’s phone back in his pocket. He looks out over to the hideout and thinks a bit.

_At the club Victor said he has me tailed. Oswald won’t make a move while I’m here watching. It’s time to leave._

He hustles down the stairs and out of the building. He’s practically jogging to get back to his car. He immediately sees that his sedan is sitting on four perfect tires; it also appears to be washed and waxed. He looks around the vicinity to see if anyone is watching. He unlocks his door. He is about to sit down when he notices a card with embossed lettering on the driver’s seat.

Jim grabs the card and gets in the car. He tilts it into the the street light coming through the windshield.

_Foxglove,_

_Invitation for one._

Jim laughs.

_First he tries to hook-up with me with a date in tow and now —The Foxglove._

His mind wanders to the events of last night, Victor snapping at his companion, clearly angry that they were interrupted. He also remembers how adamant Zsasz was to return to the moment they shared on the roof. He regards the card for a bit as the memory of their kiss plays in his mind. 

_I could text him and..._

Jim presses his lips tightly together and tosses the card into the glove box. He starts his car and drives away. He vaguely remembers he had a dried up bagel and lukewarm coffee as his only meal for the day. He turns into the drive-thru at a local burger joint, Gotham Grille. He takes his bounty of a double bacon cheeseburger with steak fries and a large drink up to his place. He places his food on the kitchen counter and wanders to his bedroom as he peels off his coat.

He removes all his clothing except his boxers. He lets each clothing item drop onto the floor at his feet. He glances around his bedroom and sighs. He knows sleep should be priority, but he doesn’t want to be alone tonight. He thinks about texting Zsasz again but quickly ends that thought.

He takes out his own phone from his discarded coat and calls Gabrielle.

"Hello?”

“Gabrielle, it’s Jim. I was wondering …”

The man cuts him off.

“Detective, I, uh, think perhaps you shouldn’t call me anymore. Mi dispiace, davvero!”

Jim frowns and immediately asks.

“What’s the matter? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He hears him sigh and say something indecipherable in Italian.

“I like you Jim but you have a dangerous job and…”

“Gabrielle, is something wrong?”

“Jim, I am truly sorry.”

The man takes a deep breath in…

“Addio.”

Jim looks to his phone at a loss. He figures perhaps the man had a change of heart about hooking up with him. He runs a hand through his hair and retrieves his coat off the floor again.

Jim imagines a night spent with Zsasz would probably be the single most thrilling night he'd ever know. His body starts burning with the thought of Victor all over him, taking what he wants. Then, irksome thoughts begin to bubble in his head about all the things that could go wrong.

_Well, there's blackmail, for instance. That’s a big one. Us getting caught by Harvey or better yet, Oswald._

The rooftop kiss pops into his head once again, squashing all the nagging doubts away. Jim can feel his cock stir when he recalls how tightly Victor held him, his hard body pressed against his own.

Jim quickly digs into an inside pocket and takes out the _other_ phone. He makes his way back to the kitchen and leans against the island. He stares at the screen for a moment then begins to text.

_“I…”_

He leans over and places both elbows on the butcher block surface. He hesitates. He struggles with completing the text or just closing the phone and forgetting about it. His fingers begin tapping at the buttons.

_“I was wondering if…”_

Jim scrunches his face into a sour expression. He deletes the text. He thinks again then re-enters another.

 _“Zsasz, I was wondering_ _…”_

“What the fuck…”

He sighs and deletes that text as well. He enters another line.

_“Do you want to_

_meet up and....”_

Frustration over desiring the killer gnaws at him; he starts to delete the text in haste. He quickly mashes the backspace button in anger and accidentally presses the send key. He stops in horror. Jim stands upright, staring wide-eyed at the screen.

_“Do you want t…”_

He sets the phone down on the island and runs a hand through his hair.

“Shit! _Shit!_ Why do they put the backspace and the send button right next to each other!? _”_

He turns to grab a beer from the fridge. He opens the bottle and quickly chugs it down. He goes back to the phone and notices that Victor hasn’t read the text yet. Jim snaps the phone closed and chucks it across his living room, pissed at himself for the blunder. He opens his bag of food and begins to devour his meal.

He hears the discarded phone chime with a text message somewhere in his dark living room. He feels his body flush with anticipation and heat but he makes no move to find the device.

After he’s done eating, he collapses on his couch, plopping his body across the cushions.

He remembers the sensation of Victor’s touch on his erection, the painful iron grip on his arm and the sweet taste of his lips. He can still feel the crushing embrace of Victor’s arms around him as forceful lips encapsulate his mouth.

Jim rolls onto his back and slips a hand over his rising erection. He gives himself a slow firm rub through the thin fabric of his silk boxers.

He takes a deep breath and removes his hand.

_I’m going to lose control if we ever touch each other again._

His mind is relentless with visions of them naked and pressed together. Victor’s hands on his ass as he straddles the killer’s lap, both of them face-to-face. He wraps his hand around Victor’s throat and slips his index and middle fingers into his eager mouth. A slow wet tongue plays between the digits as he sucks and slurps. Victor’s deep gaze locks onto his. Zsasz starts rolling his hips into him, rubbing his cock between his legs. The grasp on his ass clenches down harder.

_Stop. Stop._

Jim brings both of his hands to his forehead and balls them up into fists.

The imaginary Zsasz sets his fingers free from his mouth and whispers.

_“You called out to me, Jim. You called out to me.”_

Jim hears the chime of another text. He rolls off the couch and heads to his bedroom. He doesn’t trust himself to _not_ look for the phone and answer the texts. He falls into bed trying his best to grasp onto any memory that isn’t of Victor.

______________

 

The next day, the gang wars mysteriously die down out of the blue. Everyone figures it’s because of the previous heavy law enforcement presence. Jim gets a feeling that something big is about to go down.

“It’s strange, Harvey.”

The captain reclines in his chair and thinks as he chews on his early dinner of chicken alfredo. He wipes his mouth then gets up and walks to a map of Gotham on the wall. He fingers where the wars have been mostly concentrated.

“Perhaps they’re just waitin' us out since we have heavy patrols 'round the docks and south side street blocks.”

Jim nods.

“It’s possible, but we should keep extra patrols on those streets. Maybe I’m just being paranoid but...”

“No, I’m with you. I’m goin' to keep extra units to the south for a few more days.”

Jim stands and stretches.

“I’m done with all of yesterday’s paperwork and today’s. I’m going to get some rest. Call me if anything stirs up.”

Harvey waves him off as he returns to his dinner. Jim decides to head straight to Oswald’s. He doesn’t bother masking himself; in fact, he wants it plainly obvious he’s watching. He figures Zsasz has one of his girls or a couple of goons tailing him. Victor knows his whereabouts.

_Then why go?_

Jim knows it’s to see _him._

During duty, his mind constantly drifted back to Zsasz every chance it got. Especially when he spent most of the twelve-hour shift answering easy calls and completing paperwork. He couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss no matter how hard he tried. He needs to see Zsasz again.

An hour later he’s sitting in his car, parked in a dark alley facing Oswald’s hideout. His grip on the steering wheel tight, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He’s been at the location for ten minutes now, warring with himself. His common sense is telling him to leave and never look back.

_I could go look for a fight. It always seems to clear my mind. Ten more minutes then I will leave and never seek him out again._

He rubs his hands over his face. He sits in his car cloaked in darkness as Zsasz dominates his thoughts. Jim turns on the radio and keeps the volume low. A song called “Beacon” by Doomtree is in mid-beats as a rapper follows through the lyrics flawlessly.

_Now you got me feeding kites into the night sky_

_Covered them with nightlights,_

_Like, did you see the beacon?_

_I swear I let those kites fly around all weekend, no?_

_Well someone must have cut the lines or something, no?_

_Or maybe something, oh, you weren’t looking…”_

Jim notices a light at the building slice through the dark alley across the street. He sees movement and a shadowy figure walk out onto the sidewalk. Zsasz steps under the streetlight and faces him.

_“...Truthfully, I was blind to the deep end_

_Until that piece of us went and died that weekend…”_

Victor makes his way to the car in a slow, measured pace, a wide grin cracking his porcelain features. He hooks his thumbs through his shoulder straps as he crosses the street.

Jim leans forward and rests his forehead on the steering wheel; he came to surrender to Zsasz. He’s certain Victor won’t allow him to move on without getting what he wants from him first. Jim doubts _he_ can move on without getting what he feels he _needs_ from Victor.

His urges used to involve conquering opponents, but now the darkness coiled within him seems to only want one thing. He craves the thrill of their forbidden attraction.

_Maybe just one time and we both can move on. I doubt his attention span will hold longer than one sexual encounter, then maybe he’ll stop stalking me and I can finally get him out of my head._

_“I am the vapor, a cloud of smoke_

_I am a cheap laugh but I get the joke…”_

He hears the passenger door open, but he keeps his head on the steering wheel. His visitor promptly closes the door and shifts in the seat to face him. Jim rolls his head towards Zsasz. His hand reaches up and turns the radio off. Jim straightens himself in his seat and gazes back into Victor’s eyes.

Zsasz was hoping he’d see Jim tonight, especially after receiving his text the evening prior. He can already feel his breathing gradually accelerate. Victor works hard to rein in his building anticipation.

“Do I want to ‘ _what’,_ Jim? You never answered.”  

Jim takes a deep breath in and smiles. He was hoping Victor wouldn’t ask about the text. He clears his throat and states with a bit of amusement.

“Well, last night I was going to ask you if you wanted to come over to my place, but I was having a hard time sending the text. I was about to _delete_ it, but I accidently hit send instead.”

Jim smiles sheepishly and adds with a chuckle.

“I heard the phone go off, but funny thing, I threw it across my living room and I have no idea where it’s at.”

Jim offers a smile as he leans back and rests his head against the driver’s seat.

Victor stretches a slow smile before sliding closer to Jim. He tilts his head and slowly leans into Jim’s ear —his lips barely touching the shell of it as he says in a low, breathy voice.

“Well... let me see what I can do about that.”

Zsasz pulls back a smidge and looks deeply into Jim’s eyes. As he does, he rests his right hand on Jim’s chest before painstakingly dragging it across to slip beneath the lapel of his jacket. He reaches into Jim’s inside pocket and deliberately removes his phone from it. Victor holds the device in his mouth in order to free his hands.

Jim can feel his breathing start to accelerate. The feel of Victor's hand on his chest makes all the hairs on his arms stand on end. He shivers as his blue eyes lock onto Victor's.

Zsasz looks deeply into Jim’s eyes as he slowly removes his gloves and tosses them onto the dashboard. After taking the phone back into his hands, he slowly curls up a corner of his mouth and opens Jim’s phone to enter his number. He arches a brow and purrs.

“Just in case you _want_ me again and you can’t find the other phone.”

Zsasz snaps the phone shut with his right hand and punctuates his statement with a wink.

Victor reaches for Jim’s closest hand with his left. He looks down as he slowly circles his thumb inside the hollow of Jim’s palm. Zsasz glances back to the phone before returning his gaze to Jim.

“I’d hate to think you couldn’t reach me whenever you...  _need_  me.”

Jim's gaze doesn't avert from Victor's large dark eyes. The feel of Victor's thumb slowly massaging his palm makes his dick stir in his pants. He craves Victor's hand stroking him below as they both eagerly kiss, bite and slurp at each other's mouths. Jim can feel his body burning hot, his breathing turning into panting. He's drowning in desire.

Victor slowly returns the phone back inside Jim’s jacket pocket, inching even closer. He slides his bare hand on Jim’s chest and slowly reaches upward for his neck, lightly wrapping his fingers around it —intensely scrutinizing Jim’s eyes for any signs of hesitation. When he sees none, he moves in closer and stops a hair’s breadth from his lips.

Jim’s body ignites with the presence of Victor’s fingers as they wrap around his neck. He’s sure the assassin can feel how fast his pulse is beating. He feels as though he’s going to combust into a pile of ash if Victor's lips aren’t on him soon. Zsasz’s impossibly large dark eyes are sucking him in; he can't think or react. Whatever lingering doubts and concerns he had earlier are now completely gone from his mind.

Jim gives a soft gasp when Victor’s lips finally make contact. He slips his tongue into Victor’s mouth; guttural moans of delight escape from the back of his throat.

After a couple of soft kisses, their mouths start to hungrily eat at each other.

Jim’s hands grab at Victor’s face to keep him from pulling away. It then dawns on him that they’re exposing themselves to whomever may be looking.

He pulls his lips from Zsasz only long enough to ask.

“Are you sure we should be doing this here? We aren’t exactly discreet.”

Jim’s tongue in his mouth sets Victor’s body alight. He doesn’t give a shit who sees them. He looks briefly up to Jim’s eyes before attempting to return to his mouth.

“Who cares?”

Jim pushes back from Victor and gently pulls his hand off his neck. Even if Victor doesn’t care, he’s unable to be so flippant about their affair. He wants to continue this somewhere dark and secluded. He gives Victor a glance and opens the driver’s side door. He knows that the building he’s parked next to has a door to the garage. He also knows that the building is abandoned. He gets out of the car and walks around to the side exit door. He awaits Zsasz to join him.

Victor’s shoulders slump as he watches Jim exit the car —certain he’s going to run _again_. It isn’t until Zsasz spies him heading for the abandoned building next door that he realizes Jim wants privacy. He immediately gets out of the car and dashes up to the door. Victor attempts to open it, but finds it locked. Zsasz spies a nearby brick to smash the door’s window. He shoves in his leathered elbow to widen the space for his arm. He quickly reaches in, unlocks the deadbolt and door handle from the inside to open it.

Victor grabs Jim by the lapels of his jacket, drags him inside and shoves him up against a wall. He leans down and forces a bruising kiss on Jim’s lips.

Jim finds himself manhandled before he’s able walk into the garage of his own accord. His back slaps against a wall, making his breath catch in his mouth. He’s caught off guard by how quickly Zsasz jumps him. He shakes off his shock and wraps his arms around Victor’s shoulders. His lips meeting Victor's with the same level of hunger.

After a few deep kisses are exchanged, he focuses on Victor’s lower lip. His mouth sucks eagerly at the thick flesh; he can’t get over how sweet Victor tastes. Satisfied, he releases the swollen lip as he flicks out his tongue. He starts licking from Victor’s chin then slowly back towards his mouth. He crushes his lips to Victor’s once more as his arms wrap tighter. The burning need to feel Victor’s body pressed against his own fills him with desperation.

He moans through heavy breaths.

“I need you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jim’s eager mouth and the sensation of his sliding tongue are already driving Victor half-mad, but the detective’s words send him over. He acutely feels the heat and the deep swell of his cock in his pants. Zsasz vaguely realizes he’s starting to pant.

In between Zsasz’s own heavy breaths and slackened jaw, he looks deeply into Jim’s eyes. Victor impatiently tugs at the knot of his tie and unbuttons his first three buttons. He shoves his mouth to Jim’s neck and drags his tongue along it, relishing the rasp of Jim’s stubble before sinking his teeth into his neck. Jim’s quickening pulse and quiet hiss spur him on.

Jim moans as his tie and buttons are loosed, exposing his neck down to his collarbone. He feels the sting of Zsasz’s sharp teeth and exhales in bliss as the assassin works the sensitive pressure point on his neck. Victor’s tongue slowly dances on his skin as his teeth sink in deeper sending goosebumps down his arms. He reaches out both of his hands to Victor’s chest and slowly runs his fingertips down to his belt. He hooks his digits in and pulls Victor’s crotch to his own; Jim starts grinding on him.

The moment Victor feels Jim rub himself against his hardened cock, he groans and immediately yanks Jim’s shirt out of his pants. Zsasz hungrily reaches for his warm flesh and explores the man's taut obliques and abdominals. He looks back up into Jim’s eyes and promptly unbuckles the man’s belt before he can hesitate or protest. Victor deftly unfastens, unzips and yanks open Jim’s trousers before greedily reaching inside his boxers for his dick. Victor wantonly moans when he discovers Jim hard.

Jim thrusts into Victor’s exploring hand. He looks up into dark piercing eyes as his hands greedily grab at Zsasz. He starts unfastening Victor’s belt, the need to feel his erection consumes him.

Victor drags his finger pads across the weeping tip of Jim’s swollen cock. He slides his fingers downward before curling them around the base of his shaft to tug him from side to side. Zsasz removes his hand from Jim and brings it up to his mouth. He looks deeply into Jim’s eyes as he slowly drags his finger pads across his tongue to savor his brine. He slowly blinks once as he moans and returns his gaze to Jim.

“You taste good.”

Jim pauses from loosening the belt when Victor brings his sticky fingers to his mouth. He watches as his tongue comes out to lick up all of the precum from his pads. He moans, finding the act incredibly sexy and intensely intimate. He throws an arm around his shoulders and forces his tongue into Victor’s still smacking lips. Jim can taste his own salty remnants as his tongue plays with Victor’s. His other hand continues to work the now slack belt. His fingers reach for the buttons and zipper. His hand works quickly as he deepens the kiss, scraping his teeth across Victor’s lips.

Victor wants to break down every barrier of Jim’s and watch him unravel, but he’s torn between the warring sensations in his body, Jim’s hungry mouth and his lingering hand that is _so close_ to touching him. His engorged cock is rigid against his pants and aches for Jim’s touch. Zsasz probes his tongue deeply into his mouth, dragging it across its roof and along Jim’s teeth before forcing himself away from his swollen lips.

Victor brings his hand up to his mouth again. He spits into his palm and quickly spreads the saliva with his tongue before eagerly grasping Jim’s throbbing cock.

Jim lets out a deep breathless moan and whispers.

“Oh, god! Victor!”

He thrusts into the wet hand a couple of times. He then vaguely remembers that he was trying to set Zsasz free. He managed to get the buttons and zipper down before Victor wrapped his hand around his cock. He reaches into Victor’s boxers and finds a large, thick, weeping erection waiting for him. He pulls Victor’s cock out; his breath catches at the back of his throat when he sees how big he is.

He runs his fingertips over the shaft and grasps him gently at first. He gives him a light stroke, collecting his dewey precum to lubricate his hand. He looks up into Victor’s eyes as he strokes him firmly.

Jim then returns to thrusting his own erection into Victor’s hand. He exclaims in a deep groan between rapid breaths.

“Fuck —oh god, Zsasz!”

He places his free hand to Victor’s face and leans in for another kiss.

Jim’s hungry mouth, the thrill of having Jim’s cock in his hand and watching him lose all sensibility chip away at Zsasz. The moment Jim’s greedy hand finds his dick, he grunts into the man’s mouth. Victor’s forfeit in the exquisite sensation of Jim’s hand, but he eventually forces himself to concentrate on the detective.

Zsasz tightly grasps Jim and teases Jim’s frenulum with the pad of his thumb as he works his delicious length. He makes himself pull away from the man’s lips just long enough to growl in his ear.

“I want you to cum for me, Jim.”

The throaty demand sends a shiver through Jim. He begins to thrust faster into the slick stroking hand. He could cum now but he doesn’t want to. He steadies his breathing and concentrates on working Victor. He pushes Victor’s erection down and works his hand in a small twisting motion up and down his shaft. His palm barely brushing against the head before returning down to the base.

The feel of Victor’s hand on his own aching erection is quickly becoming too much. He spent a few days daydreaming and lusting after Zsasz, hounded by the need to have his body against him. He knows he won’t last long. He takes in a few more breaths willing his climax to hold off a bit longer. He continues his diligent work below on Victor’s impressive length.

Jim’s adroit hand makes quick work of the assassin. Zsasz feels himself losing the ability to concentrate on pleasuring him. It’s all Victor can do to hold him fast. He hopes Jim’s own thrusting will finish him because he finds himself losing control of his hips and his fine motor skills. The way Jim handles him is dizzying. He feels his knees start to weaken and the low deep heat spread. The exquisite pressure rapidly builds inside him. Victor takes his other hand and reaches for the wall behind Jim attempting to steady himself.

“Jim…”

The soft utterance of his name sends Jim over the edge. The pressure below and heat throughout his body intensifies beyond control. He does his best to concentrate on his motions around Victor’s erection.

“Oh... _god_! Shit! I…”

He gasps and shakes his head; he doesn’t want it to end, but he caves in. Thick webs of white cum flow from him in an explosive release. A few strings fall to the floor but most of it remains on Victor’s still stroking hand. He can feel his legs shake as his muscles contract. He leans his shoulders back against the wall as he thrusts deep and long into Victor’s hand. His loud moans and deep breaths echo through the empty space of the garage.

He continues to work Zsasz as best he can. His hand stutters and pauses in the throes of his own climax.

Zsasz does his best to hold onto Jim as he rides out his pleasure, but the pressure gathering in him is blinding. The sights, sounds and feel of Jim cumming only arouse him more. As his pleasure mounts, he can feel himself slipping and slowing. Zsasz’s hips and thighs begin to stutter. As he feels himself about to blow, he whispers again.

“ _Ji—_ ”

Jim watches Victor through hooded eyelids, his hand finding its rhythm again. He feels the need to see Zsasz weak and helpless as he cums. He quickens his strokes as he leans in and licks Victor’s chin. He lightly bites down on the slack jaw; his hand never pausing from its task. He slowly licks Victor’s adam’s apple then demands in a husky voice.

“Give it to me.”

Victor feels himself tumble over. All reason and control vanish as he shudders and his spasming muscles overtake him.

_"F-f-fuck—”_

Zsasz leans into the wall and against Jim, struggling to hold himself upright. His knees buckle as he jerks and thrusts —long hot ropes bursting from him as Jim milks every last drop of him.

Jim reaches out his free hand and wraps his fingers around Victor’s neck and squeezes lightly. He pushes him back a little to look into his eyes, his penetrating dark pools now clouded and unfocused. Victor’s semen coats his hand generously as his body shakes and trembles before him. He states in a breathless voice as he leans in.

“You’re so perfect.”

Victor slows his panting and takes a moment to concentrate on Jim’s words before smiling.

“ _You…”_

Zsasz slowly blinks and shakes his head while mouthing the word _‘wow’_.

“ _…_ aren’t so bad yourself.”

He bites his lower lip and licks it.

“ _Why_ did we wait so long to do this?”

Jim scoffs and shakes his head. He plants a kiss on Victor’s lips before wiping his hand on his shirt tail. He starts tucking his shirt into his pants and shrugs.

“I wasn’t sure I could trust you. I mean —I still kind of don’t. You have tried to _kill_ me a couple of times and held me hostage.”

He glances up at Zsasz and offers a nervous smile.

Victor rubs his middle and ring fingers against his lips as a grim smile overtakes him. Suddenly, his phone rings. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

_Penguin._

Victor furrows his brow and purses his lips together before nodding once. He opens his phone and turns to the side.

“Boss?”

Jim buckles his belt as he starts walking away. He doesn’t want to listen in on Victor’s business.

_As if things aren’t complicated enough. Maybe this is enough and we can both move on._

Victor responds as he warily watches Jim walk off.

“Gimme fifteen. No. I’m not far.”

Zsasz quickly closes his phone and pockets it, not even bothering to put himself together before walking over to Jim —who’s likely to walk away _without_ looking back this time.

He takes Jim’s arm and turns him around. Victor reaches behind Jim’s neck and draws him in for a deep kiss before pulling back and furrowing his brow. He pulls back his hand and rubs beneath his bottom lip with the knuckle of his thumb before reluctantly admitting his next words, despite the sincerity of them.

“I wanna see you again.”

Jim raises an eyebrow and looks Victor over. He knows Zsasz isn’t a man of many words. This simple statement isn’t something he can brush off. Jim notices the subtle change in Victor’s inflection. The slight distressed tone in the assassin’s voice bordered on pleading.

_Walking away is already hard. Oh god —we can’t get attached. But…fuck._

He takes a deep breath and states.

“Zsasz, you realize that this attraction between us is the worst thing to have happen to us. Right?”

Jim looks away from him and casts his gaze to the ground. He wants Victor as something more ( _what that is, he’s yet to figure out_ ) but he knows this could never go any further than what it is. He can feel a connection between them but it would always have to remain hidden.

_How long could this secrecy survive? He doesn’t seem to understand._

Victor puts himself back together, wiping his hand on his shirttails before tucking the sticky mess of himself back into his pants, buckling himself and shrugging.

“Probably. Still doesn’t change anything.”

Zsasz walks to the door before Jim can beat him to it. He looks back at Jim over a shoulder before leaving.

“You know how to reach me.”

Jim watches as Victor makes a quick exit from the door and back to Oswald’s across the street.

_Who am I kidding? I know I’ll contact him again._

He heads back to his car and drives straight home.

Fresh from a hot shower, Jim wanders to his living room clad only in a thick blue towel. He's sure he heard the phone chime from the direction of a bookcase last night. He gets on his knees and looks. The phone’s tucked neatly between two bookshelves.

He opens the device to read Victor's reply.

_“do i want to what?”_

Then another text a few minutes later.

_“Jim?”_

He places the phone on the bookshelf. A small part of him wishes that Zsasz was with him now. His mind replays their interaction earlier that night. He needs him and he knows it’s going to be almost impossible to get over his obsession. At least, not any time soon.

 

—>z<—

Victor Zsasz is casual about sex and sexual relationships. That’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy fucking. In fact, he enjoys fucking immensely. Zsasz fucks as much as possible (men and women alike), but rarely returns to a sexual partner.

His thoughts on sex range anywhere from _“do you mind if I watch?_ ”, to _“the more the merrier”_ , to casually shrugging off the handful of people who actually turn him down. It’s one of the reasons he finds himself baffled by his preoccupation with Jim. Zsasz fully expected an encounter with the detective would get Jim out of his system, but it doesn’t. It gnaws at him.

As Victor walks back to the club, images of his encounter with Jim flash in his mind. His fingers twitch at the memory of Jim’s body, the man’s cock in his hand and how he came all over him.

Zsasz can still feel Jim’s hand on him.

He can still _taste_ him.

_“Zsasz, you realize that this attraction between us is the worst thing to have happen to us. Right?”_

Victor screws up his mouth because he _knows_ Jim is right. He’s already had the same thought, especially considering Penguin’s future plans. Zsasz knows there is no way this will end well, but he simply cannot seem to keep himself from the lawman. Not only is the mercenary confounded by his obsession with the detective, he’s stunned by the fact he practically _admitted it_. He actually _told_ Jim wanted to see him again. Victor could scarcely believe his own confession or how much he meant it. He barely recognized the sound of his voice as the words spilled from his mouth.

He takes a deep breath before entering the club. He nods at his men as he strides past them and heads for Penguin’s office. Oswald looks up from his desk and addresses him.

“Victor, I’m glad you’re here. I was hoping for an update on our _friend_ , Detective Gordon.”

Despite the assassin’s breezy demeanor, the query rattles him.

_We just jacked each other off in the abandoned garage across the street a little while ago._

Victor shrugs casually and replies.

“Not much to report, Boss. Mostly, he goes to work, goes home and stakes us out here at night. Aside from that, he drank at two clubs during his down time. That’s about it.”

Zsasz rubs the back of his neck and reluctantly adds the next tidbit of information.

“I _did_ see him out there a little while ago staking us out. He’s not even hiding anymore.”

Penguin nods and briefly looks away in thought before returning his attention to his henchman.

“And our other concern?”

“We gotta ‘nough muscle here, but we really oughta beef things up at the mansion. After Tasha confirmed Jim was outside, I sent her there. It’s gotten really quiet, Boss. I don’t like it.”

Penguin chews a thumbnail.

“Detective Gordon’s a smart man. If he’s sitting in plain view, he’ll likely make no attempt at anything rash and he still has no cause to search here. I share your concerns about the sudden quiet around the city. I feel it would be prudent to have you and your women escort me back home and act as my security detail there. We obviously have more than enough men here.”

Victor nods and points a thumb out the door.

“Sure thing, Chief. Lemme make some calls. I’m ready when you are.”

“Thank you, Victor.”

Zsasz begins to head for the door when Penguin addresses him again.

“I see you’re still wearing those rings. It’s been years since I’ve seen you without gloves, Victor.”

He looks down at his bare hands, suddenly remembering he left his gloves on Jim’s dash in his haste to meet him in the garage. He shrugs and nods before exiting.

“Guess it’s been awhile, huh?”

After exiting Penguin’s office, Victor squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his teeth and mentally reprimands himself for his carelessness. He arranges for two more of his Girls (Xochitl and Astrid) to meet him at the mansion to provide a security detail and bring him a change of clothing along with another pair of gloves. He also arranges for a couple more of his henchwomen to act as relief early the next morning around six thirty.

After Zsasz concludes his call, he closes his eyes in hopes that Jim doesn’t look too closely at the forgotten gloves. Despite the fact Victor wiped them down, they’re still the same ones he wore the night he killed those two assholes outside the strip club.

—

Later that night, Victor drives Penguin up to the Van Dahl estate. Its drive bifurcates along the northern-facing entrance and the western side of the mansion before curling around back. The estate also has several tall windows along its west side. Xochitl and Astrid are already outside, flanking either side out front.

As Victor exits the car and walks Penguin in, he spies Tasha up at her crow’s nest above the second-floor balcony. Once inside, he nods to Ivy and Bridgit as he passes them in the parlor.

Zsasz checks out everyone's quarters (including the additional freezer that housed Fries by the kitchen above the wine cellar). The Victors exchange nods when they see one another again and Penguin eventually heads for his room to retire for the night.

Victor’s Girls take first watch while he heads for a shower. He leaves the bathroom door cracked in case anything goes afoul. He removes his holster, jacket and shirt. The moment he reaches to unbuckle his belt, he remembers Jim’s grip on it before pulling him forward and grinding against him.

_“I need you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”_

Victor takes a long hard look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and clenches his jaw.

_Get your shit together, Zsasz. This man could end you._

 

__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH LAWRDY HAVE MERCY
> 
> THIS chapter. *Fans herself vigorously*
> 
> It's not a full surrender but faaaaaaack!
> 
> When we were RPing this handjob scene, I was clutching the pearls!
> 
> Both Jim and Victor sure were hoping that this little encounter would get it out of their systems. But no way in hell is a small taste sufficient especially after the chemistry they have going on.
> 
> So much more hotness to cum...I mean COME!
> 
> ~FC  
> _______________________________________
> 
> FO’ REAL, Y’ALL!
> 
> Umm, yeah… This chapter right HERE! ‘Bout DAMB time too! Zsasz was gettin’ kinda pent up! (Or was that me? I forget.)
> 
> Yup. Puttin’ this chapter together kinda did somethin’ for my nethers. These two?! HUNTY!
> 
> What FC said. Ain’t NO way this encounter (hot as it was) is gonna be enough for these two. 
> 
> Oh, and on a related note: before this collab, I never employed the jizzy “cum” spelling before… never wrote a collaborative fic before… never RPed before. 
> 
> That FC poppin’ my cherry all over the place with this fic! DIRTY, DIRTY GURL! -o-


	8. Onslaught on Penguin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Jim try to get their heads back into their jobs and off each other. The reason behind the disquieting ceasefire between rival factions soon becomes apparent.
> 
> In the middle of suppressing the raiding gangs, Jim makes a surprising discovery.

—>z<—

Early the next morning around six, Olga begins preparing water for tea and preheating the oven for the quiche she’s assembling. She looks out the western-facing kitchen window and waves at Mr. Signorelli as he drives up to deliver her order from the green grocer’s. Zsasz is already milling around the kitchen in hopes he might sample whatever she plans to prepare for breakfast.

Victor walks out the door to inspect the delivery truck and the order before Mr. Signorelli brings it in. After the truck leaves, Zsasz helps Olga put away the groceries, snacking on things that catch his eye until she smacks his hand and scolds him (but not _too_ much. She was secretly delighted that the bald man took the time to help her).

As they unpack, he receives a text from Tasha:

_Ursula and Demaris are here._

_Xochitl and I are out._

After putting away the groceries, he sits down for a cup of English Breakfast tea and some shortbread with her at the kitchen table. Victor insists that Olga sit while he collects the tea service and takes the teacups to the sink to wash. Just as he’s about to reach for the faucet, he notices a second green grocer delivery truck (almost identical to the one that left a half hour ago) heading up the drive. The arrival of another truck so quickly after Mr. Signorelli's delivery arouses his suspicion. 

_Do Ursula and Demaris know Mr. Signorelli came by when Xochitl and Tasha were here?_

“Olga, did Mr. Signorelli forget anything from your order?”

“No.”

Victor immediately unholsters one of his Sigs.

“Go to the wine cellar and _stay_ there. Don’t come out until I get you. _Now_ _!_ "

Wide-eyed, Olga hurries off and Zsasz quickly runs towards the back door as he barks.

“Astrid! Kitchen! _Now!_ ”

Within seconds, Astrid sprints into the kitchen with her gun drawn. Victor reaches to open the door and nods her out first. She runs down the stairs and Victor follows behind, grabbing the railing and jumping over it to shave off a few seconds. They stride up to the corner, stopping momentarily to negotiate how they’ll take on the delivery truck heading up the drive.

Once they round the corner, they begin firing at the driver who’s already begun pulling his pistol from his uniform. After they finish him with a few rounds to the head and chest, his body slumps forward into the steering wheel —causing the vehicle to decelerate as it climbs up the driveway.

He nods her over to deal with the driver side of the vehicle while he handles the passenger side, enabling them to respectively pick off any anyone exiting the back of the truck. As if on cue, the back doors of the decoy truck swing open and several men begin pouring from the vehicle, firing as they exit. They head towards the front of the vehicle flanking either side to meet their opposition.

Victor and Astrid approach the vehicle firing repeatedly, picking off each man as they exit. Eventually, they make their way around to the back and confirm there are no more shooters inside. Victor runs up to the driver side of the slowing vehicle and pushes the dead driver out of the way. He stops and parks the truck where the drive begins to curve around to the back entrance.

Just as Zsasz is about to exit the truck, he sees Freeze quickly descending the backstairs with his freeze gun primed. At that moment, they hear the blast of Ursula’s bolt-action rifle, followed by a second.

Zsasz and Freeze exchange a glance before turning their attention to the estate’s entrance, where they see a van barreling up the drive despite drawing heavy gunfire from Zsasz’s Girls. Astrid abandons the delivery truck to run down the drive, racing to assist her team up front. By now, Bridgit Pike’s joined them with her flamethrower. Firefly begins spewing flames at the vehicle. Vibrant plumes lick at the van as it continues up the drive.

Zsasz remarks to himself more than to Freeze.

“We gotta stop that thing.”

Freeze breezily responds.

“Got it.”

Zsasz arches an eyebrow as Freeze confidently makes his way down the driveway to meet the van head on. Victor joins him, firing off rounds from both his GSRs. As they close in, Freeze tosses an ice grenade beneath the van before unleashing a blast of frozen particles at it with his freeze gun. Between the detonation of the Fries’ ice grenade and the work of his gun, the van slams to a halt. The back of the vehicle rises from the force of the impact. Zsasz arches a brow, pulls down the corners of his mouth and gives Fries an impressed nod as he quickly reloads.

Suddenly, men stream out of the van and begin firing. Pike and Fries respectively roast and freeze any men who manage to make it past Zsasz and his Girls who rain down a hail of bullets in their wake. Only after the firefight ebbs, does Zsasz take a little time to observe and appreciate Fries’ and Pike’s respective methods.

Zsasz is impressed by Fries’ marksmanship. He’s also amused by how he freezes people mid-action and silences them mid-scream. Sure, he’s seen the end result of Fries’ methods with the Nygmacicle and all, but it's a real treat to watch the iceman in action. Zsasz stretches a wide grin and snickers at the comedy of it all.

_And the way Freeze is all so cool about it all. He’s cool. That’s funny._

On the opposite end of the spectrum is Firefly. While she hasn’t Fries’ size or “cool”, she is formidable in her own right. Bridgit is fiery, fearless and surprisingly accurate with her flamethrower.

 _Firefly_ is _fiery, isn’t she?_ Victor puffs out an amused laugh.

Victor would have never dreamed Pike’s medium could ever achieve that degree of precision. And the protracted, anguished screams of her hapless victims? It's music to his ears. He sighs wistfully. _Pike would be perfect for our team. She works so well with The Girls._ Demaris and Astrid even shoot him impressed looks as they watch her in action.

Eventually, the gunfire stops. The agonized wails of the wounded and dying and the blood-curdling screams of blazing men also die down.

After the threat is neutralized, Penguin walks out with Ivy to survey the estate grounds littered with bullet-ridden corpses. Among them, is a grotesque display of men encased in ice and charred bodies barely recognizable as human.

Zsasz returns to the kitchen in order to fetch Olga from the wine cellar. On his way, he fires off a group text to his men, in addition to Xochitl and Tasha:

_“problem at the mansion_

_dealt with_

_need status on club asap”_

As Victor walks Olga out of the wine cellar, he receives a text from a number he doesn’t recognize.

_“Dont know if ur in the club_

_Inform ur men..do not fire_

_Tac Force entering club soon”_

_Jim._

 

—>j<—

At five thirty in the morning, Jim enters Harvey’s office. The captain’s looking rough as he rests his head on the backrest of his leather chair. He sits upright when Jim comes through the door.

“Harvey, anymore from the gangs towards the south and east side?”

Bullock stretches and yawns. He strokes his beard a couple of times and shakes his head.

“Nah, not a peep. It’s like the whole south and east side of Gotham are in some weird ceasefire.”

Harvey stands up and adds.

“The whole half of the city is quiet and I hate it! It’s makin' my spine tingle, like a bad storm is 'bout to hit. Hey, lemme go splash some cold water on my face and let’s go get some coffee. I was in a meetin' with the commissioner late last night. Fucker can talk forever.”

Jim smiles and quips.

“Really cutting into that drinking time —eh?”

Harvey raises a middle finger and aims it at Jim’s smug face as he walks by.

“For that, you’re buyin' my extra large, triple shot, hazelnut flavored cappuccino and cinnamon roll!”

________

Once in the car, they head to a coffee shop a couple of miles away. Jim pulls up to the drive-thru, the glare of the fluorescent display illuminates the entire selection. A raspy and groggy voice croaks through the speaker.

“Morning, welcome to Smiling Bean. What can I get you?”

“A large black coffee, —a...”

Jim turns to Harvey having forgotten his detailed coffee requirement. Harvey leans over to shout out the driver’s window.

“A extra large, triple shot, hazelnut-flavored cappuccino and cinnamon roll. Heated.”

Harvey leans back in his seat and asks.

“How hard is that to remember?”

Jim chuckles and adds.

“That’s all.”

“Okay, pull around.”

There’s another car ahead of them waiting at the window.

Harvey leans forward and turns on the radio. He places the tuner to a morning show that has humorous segments; he loves to start his morning off with a good laugh. He notices a pair of gloves on the dashboard and grabs them. He slaps them across his other palm deep in thought as he leans back into the passenger seat. He turns to Jim.

“This weird gang silence has to be some kinda mutual ceasefire. But why? Have any theories?”

Jim has an arm through the open driver's side window and one hand on the wheel. His foot’s steady on the brake as he waits for the customers before them to get served. He turns to Harvey to discuss his thoughts.

His words catch in his throat; he can’t believe what he is seeing. Harvey has Victor’s gloves in his hand, slapping them across his palm.

_Zsasz forgot his gloves._

Harvey eyes him as he awaits his response. Jim’s foot lets up off the brake as he eyes the gloves in Harvey’s hand. The car slowly starts lurching forward. Jim doesn’t register the subtle movement, nor does he see the background outside start to go by.

Harvey turns his head and braces himself with his free hand. He frantically points ahead as he shouts.

“Whoa, whoa whoa — _brakes!_ ”

Jim hits the pedal hard and both of them sway forward from the hard stop. Harvey turns to him and huffs.

“Well, I don’t need the coffee now.”

Jim smiles nervously and places the car in park. His eyes quickly go from the gloves to Harvey’s face.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Calm down. They’re only gloves. Don’t call attention to them._

“Oops, sorry about that.”

Harvey chuckles.

Jim clears his throat and turns his attention forward. He quickly speaks up about the topic at hand.

“South side and east side have been warring with each other since Barbara and Tabitha disappeared.”

Jim can hear Harvey slap the gloves on his palm again. Every nerve in his body sparks with the sound of each smack across Harvey’s hand.

The large burly man is deep in thought and giving no mind to the two leather garments in his hands. Harvey scrunches his face.

“Yeah, it’s odd that _now_ they stopped. What’s changed?”

Jim sits up; it finally occurs to him the only thing that has changed is Oswald. He turns to Harvey.

“They must have a truce; Oswald and his band took over central and have started organizing and getting stronger.”

Jim swallows and takes a deep breath. He can feel his heart skip a beat; his face starts burning as he informs Harvey of the next bit of news.

“He has Victor Zsasz and his entire force working for him now. I recently found out the night Oswald called in the murder at his establishment.”

Harvey lets out a big sigh.

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Shit! They’re layin' low to organize against Penguin. He’s gettin' stronger and he definitely has alotta enemies. That must be it!”

Jim takes out his phone to call dispatch.

“It’s Detective Gordon, can I get two units to patrol near the old Sirens nightclub?”

Harvey opens the glove box to deposit the gloves. He notices the Foxglove invitation before he can toss the two leather garments in. He takes the card out and smirks at Jim.

“Okay, thanks.”

Jim ends the call.

Harvey shakes the card in front of him and cackles like a lech.

“ _Jimbo?_ What do we have here? What're _you_ doin' in your free time?”

Harvey laughs as he flips the invitation over in-between his fingers.

“ _And_ here I thought you had become a prude! Well, well — _well!_ ”

Harvey fans himself with the card and smiles really big at the flustered detective beside him.

Jim screams in his head.

_Fuck my life! This is how I get caught. Between Zsasz leaving his gloves behind and me leaving the card in the car, there’s no hope for us to properly conceal our affair. Idiot! I’m a goddamn detective and I leave evidence!?_

Jim snatches the card and the gloves from Harvey’s hand and shoves them all back into the glove box. He slams the lid to the compartment closed. Bullock emits a loud bellowing laugh. The server at the window and the person before them both turn their heads to look.

“Oh c’mon! Gimme me some details! Is she hot? She must be if you are considerin' goin' to _The Foxglove_. You dirty- _dirty_ man! You two into some kinky shit? C’mon, brighten up this old man’s mornin' with some sex stories!”

Harvey claps his hands and rubs them together as he leans in. Jim turns away from his leering friend and smirks.

_He is hot. The hottest, most delicious thing I’ve had in a long time. I’d let him do anything he wanted to me if he wished. Oh god, I need to get Harvey to drop it._

Jim turns his head back towards Harvey and points his index finger as he states.

“No! It’s nothing, okay? Let’s drop it.”

Jim sees the car before them pull away and he drives to the window. Harvey’s still laughing, Jim can’t help but smile at his best friend’s mirth.

But his smile soon fades; he starts worrying about Victor. He could care less about Oswald, but at least _he_ is better than gangs warring in the streets and making a mess of Gotham. He wants to call Zsasz and inform him of his concerns, but knows it will have to wait. He’ll call when he’s alone.

“Once we leave here, let’s head back to the precinct. I’m going to organize patrols in central. Are you headed straight to the Sirens building?”

“Yes, I’m going to keep watch along with two other units.”

They head back to the GCPD; Harvey disembarks the car with his breakfast. Jim pulls away and after reaching two blocks he gets a call from Harvey.

“Harvey.”

“Jim, there’s a shootout at the Sirens building. I’m sendin' all available units and from what I’m hearin' it’s big! I’m also dispatchin' the tactical unit. Be careful, man!”

Jim races towards Oswald’s hangout.

_The situation must be deadly for Harvey to send in tactical force._

His thoughts stray and an image of Zsasz getting gunned down enters his mind. It surprises Jim how much it affects him as he speeds towards Oswald’s. He flicks on his lights and siren to cut a path through traffic. The disturbing rogue thought replays over and over in his mind as he speeds towards the club.

Jim arrives to the scene at six twenty-five. He quickly pulls his car up to the two units he called in earlier. They blocked the main road that runs parallel to the east side of the building. They are stationed adjacent to the southeast (back) corner of the club. Three of the four officers are in an active shootout using their vehicles as cover. They’re pinned down as constant gunfire comes at them from two directions.

Jim’s car starts taking hits from bullets as he parks right behind one of the police cars. He ducks low as he exits the car, using the driver’s side door as a shield.

He takes out his Glock 19 police-issued weapon from his holster. He approaches the pinned officers; one of the officers is down but alive. She has the radio in her hand talking with the oncoming tactical force.

“We have a six gunmen on the east side of the building that are actively firing on us! There are more vehicles in front of the building that have unknown number of assailants outside and inside the building. Also unknown numbers coming from the west in the alley beside the establishment.”

Jim addresses one of the cops ducking low by the passenger tire.

“Officer Jones, what can you tell me about what’s going on?”

“Detective Gordon, we arrived to the scene and we saw the gunmen leave their vehicles. A large group of them divided and proceeded to the building. We have three shooters directly in front of us and a couple of shooters coming from the left of us. They are taking cover in the alley on the other side of the building.

Several rounds of bullets go whizzing by, they’re getting flanked by two men from the west side of the building. Jim and Officer Jones fire on the shooters. The men immediately take cover back into the alley. The back and forth gunfire goes on for a several minutes.

Sounds of more units can be heard in the distance. Jim takes the radio.

“This is Detective Gordon. All available units get in position towards the front of the building.  We are pinned down by shooters and we could use some suppression fire.”

The two men from the west fire upon them again. Jim and the wounded female officer fire and take one out. The six taking shelter behind their vehicles at the northeast corner begin firing. Jim and the officers take cover low to the ground. They remain pinned for several minutes.

Another shooter appears to replace the one they shot. The two gunmen run from the alley towards the other side of the back road that runs behind the building.

Jim sees that they are about to get jumped by the alley forces. He ducks low and shuffles to the rear of his car. He spies the two men taking cover not far, just behind a dumpster on the small back road behind the club. He hears several units arrive towards the front. Heavy gunfire ensues. Jim fires on the two by the dumpster in hopes they back off. He stops and reloads.

With the arrival of police backup, the two men decide to get away and start running down the back road. Jim darts from around his car and gives chase. His darkness is eager for blood as the two fleeing men get into his gun sight. He gets one in the back, then fires again and gets him in the head. The other shooter turns and fires. He clips Jim on his upper right arm.

Jim registers that he’s hit, but he doesn’t slow down from his pursuit. He opens fire and hits the last man several times in the chest and neck. He heads towards the alley entrance, and sees three more men at the northwest corner of the building firing on the police units arriving to the scene.

One of the gunmen takes a hit and falls to the ground. The gunman is wounded but still able to fight. The wounded man turns to look back down the alley and sees Gordon. He clumsily raises his AR 15 assault rifle after taking a hit to his shoulder.

Jim sees the man lift his rifle; he makes a dash back out of the alley and around the corner of the building. Bullets rain heavily in his wake. The onslaught sends chunks of brick and mortar flying out across the back road. He feels a few shards whiz by his face, slashing at his right cheek as he spins and slams his back onto the building.  

The sounds of gunfire on the second floor inside the building catch his attention. He looks around the corner of the building, glass shards rain down into the alley from the firefight inside. Jim notices the gunman with the assault rifle is distracted with the chaos up above. He takes his chance and fires on the man. He hits him in the chest, obliterating the man’s heart. One of the other men turn and fire on him. He dodges back around the corner of the building.

His mind brings up Victor again and he chants in his head.

_Please don’t be in there._

_Please don’t be in there._

_Please don’t be in there._

The sound of a large engine roaring catches his attention. The GCPD tactical force vehicle arrives as it approaches up the back road behind the club. Jim pulls out his phone and quickly thumbs through his contacts to find Zsasz’s number.

He discovers Victor inputted his number with the contact name, “Abusive Boyfriend”. He can't help but smirk at the inside joke.

He takes another look around the corner. The two remaining men in the alley are still preoccupied with the front forces. Jim takes a shot, hitting one in the leg. The man falls down as he screams. The other man turns and fires. Jim ducks back around the corner. He quickly taps out a text to Victor.

_“Dont know if ur in the club_

_Inform ur men..do not fire_

_Tac Force entering club soon”_

 

—>z<—

Victor reads Jim’s text about the club as he fetches Olga. He immediately calls one of his two leads to determine why the hell the GCPD tactical unit has been dispatched there, but receives no answer.

_Not a good sign._

Zsasz screws up his mouth and tries his second lead —who finally picks up after several rings. Through the sounds of gunfire and shouting, he informs Zsasz of the earlier coordinated attack, the ensuing firefight and the arrival of the GCPD.

“You’re about to get help. I hear GCPD tactical just arrived. Let ‘em do the heavy lifting. We don’t need anymore heat. Casualties?”

“Just a few wounded.”

“I’ll be there soon with the Boss.”

After Victor gets Olga settled, he hurries back outside to join Penguin, who’s still surveying the damage with Ivy. By now, the kingpin’s concluded the attack was designed to undermine his attempts to shore up his powerbase with his return to the central part of Gotham. He’s also rattling off a list of things that need to be done around the estate grounds to Ivy —occasionally studying a frozen man or wrinkling a nose at a charred body. Victor quickly approaches him.

“Boss. We gotta problem.”

“Yes, Victor! _Clearly!_ _I_ _do_ have eyes, you know!”

“No, Boss. We gotta _‘nother_ problem.”

—>j<—

Jim closes the phone and waves down the tactical vehicle as it approaches. He informs them that there are guards in the club defending their ground. He wants to make sure they don’t accidently get fired upon.

“Currently, there are two shooters down the alley and several more engaging officers out front. We can get into the building through a side door in the alley. There are unknown numbers inside. From the looks of it there are shooters upstairs too; be on guard. There are windows that look down into the alley.”

The officers in tactical body armor and gear start pouring into the alley. Jim hangs back to let them get the situation in the alley under control.

“GCPD! Put your guns down and surrender. Now!”

The two men throw their weapons to the floor and hold up their hands.

Tac force goes through the already open door and pour into the kitchen. Jim holds the two surrendering men at gunpoint and signals to one of the front units that the west is clear. One officer comes over and assists Jim while the rest deal with the remaining outside forces to the east. They get the two cuffed and into police vehicles.

Jim runs back into the alley and goes into the club. The Tac unit is busy engaging opposition on the main floor. He looks around the kitchen and goes into the back where the freezer storage is located. He has his weapon drawn and pointing ahead in case he’s met with opposition.

He opens the large walk-in freezer door. After the billowy clouds of cold dissipate, he sees a large square object in the middle of the freezer. It is covered with a large heavy tarp. He quickly uncovers the large block and discovers Edward.

Jim does a double take to make sure his eyes aren't deceiving him.

He takes in the frozen specter of The Riddler. Edward’s hands reaching out with his face forever locked in a frozen expression of anguish.

_Mr. Freeze sure does come in handy. I can’t wait to have a discussion with Penguin._

He quickly walks out of the freezer. He runs into a couple of Zsasz’s men in the kitchen making their way to the side exit. Jim flags them down. They both look at each other then scowl back at Jim.

“How many?”

A tall thick man with neck and facial tattoos answers.

“A dozen maybe, but that’s been cut down in half. A few fled out of the front doors and some went upstairs. Three are dead on the main floor.”

Jim then asks with real concern in his voice.

“Is Zsasz here? Is he upstairs?”

The two guards look at each other. The smaller one with slicked-back blonde hair and hawk-like nose answers this time.

“He’s with the boss back at his estate.”

Jim nods and lets out a sigh of relief.

He can hear the Tac forces moving toward the stairwell, now that they cleared the downstairs. A couple more guards quickly shuffle into the kitchen, one wounded and being assisted out by the other.

Two officers enter through the side door.

“Can you two please make sure the guards make it out safely? Get them to EMT; no one leaves till we get their statements.”

Jim rushes to the stairwell and hears many shouts for the gunmen to get down onto the floor. He makes it onto the small platform before entering the second floor. All of the rival gang members are on their stomachs and holding up their hands. Two wounded guards hobble towards the stairwell as another follows.

Half of the force fall back to help the officers outside subdue the remaining opposition that have fled on foot. Ambulances arrive to help those that are wounded. Coroners also appear to handle the care and hauling of the dead bodies.

Jim assists with getting all the apprehended criminals into police vehicles. By the time he’s done, a large crowd of spectators have gathered. Officers setup barricades to keep the onlookers from getting any closer.

 

—>z<—

Victor is already well acquainted with Penguin’s mood swings and tantrums. Just as he predicted, the Boss’ behavior on the ride to the club runs the gamut between brooding, pensive silences, to indignant declarations of payback for those who wronged him and nervous speculation about the state of his club.

Zsasz mostly ignores Penguin’s chatter on the drive, but listens for his name in case the Boss comes up with some task for him to perform. Instead, his mind drifts back and forth between the anticipation of seeing Jim, uncharacteristic concern over the detective’s safety, preoccupation with how thoroughly he wiped down his forgotten gloves and mild concern over whether or not Jim found any incriminating evidence on them.

The mercenary’s unaware how distracted he is until he notices Demaris side-eyeing him in the passenger’s seat out of his peripheral vision. When he turns to look at her, she arches a questioning brow to determine if he requires anything of her. He shakes his head. She nods in acknowledgement before returning her attention forward.

By the time he nears the vicinity of the club, the streets are barricaded and crowds of people have gathered. Whatever happened earlier was huge. Victor glances back at the rearview mirror to see Penguin’s eyes widen in disbelief and horror before he begins shrieking.

_“What the?! My club!”_

Xochitl and Tasha walk up through the crowd to the car. Victor rolls down the window to get the details on what they know. He knows there’s no way they’re getting any closer to the club in the car. He gets out and instructs Xochitl to stay with it, while he escorts Penguin to the club with Demaris, Ursula and Tasha.

 

—>j<—

When the adrenaline finally subsides, Jim remembers ( _and feels_ ) that he’s been shot on his upper arm. He heads back to his vehicle and leans against the hood. He peels his jacket off to inspect the wound. The bullet went through the meaty part of his upper right arm, less than a quarter of an inch. The length of the wound is about half an inch long. His shirt disgustingly sticky with blood and sweat as he tries to peel it off his wound. He starts to feel the sting of the lacerations on his face. He brings up his left hand to feel his wounds. They weren’t too deep and mostly clotted over now.

“Jim!”

Gordon looks around and sees Harvey running up to him.

“You okay, buddy? Holy crap, that looks ugly as hell! Hold on; I’ll get an EMT over here.”

Harvey waves down one of the medical team. He then returns to Jim.

“Was Oswald in there?”

Jim shakes his head.

“Just guards.”

An EMT hustles over.

“Can you please remove your shirt, so I can get at your wound easily?”

Jim winces as he peels off the ruined work shirt. His white tank top has some blood soaked through to it.

Harvey’s phone rings. He rolls his eyes and addresses Jim before walking off.

“Get that wound taken care of and I’ll meet you back at the precinct.”

Harvey answers the call as he turns to head back to his vehicle.

“Situation is handled. Just some cleanup and we are outta here. Yeah, I’m on my way.”

After Jim’s done getting patched (three stitches and cleanup), he collects his ruined attire to throw into his car. He notices Oswald along with Zsasz and his female team cutting through the crowds to get past the barricade. The officers guarding the barricades stop them from getting any closer.

Despite the sting and stiffness of the lacerations on his face, Jim feels a small smile creep at the corners of his mouth. His overwhelming sense of relief and excitement at seeing the assassin gives Jim pause. He takes a deep breath and heads over to Penguin and crew.

Once Victor and his Girls escort Penguin through the crowds to the barricade, he spies Jim approaching in a bloody undershirt. Zsasz shakes his head at the detective’s patched-up right arm —the one attached to _that hand_ he so fondly remembers.

_What a shame._

Jim can hear Oswald screeching and throwing a tantrum to be let in. The kingpin is particularly animated. Justifiably so.  Jim shakes his head.

“That’s my building! I demand that you let me and my guards through at once!”

Zsasz turns his head and looks directly at Jim.

The detective takes a deep breath and briskly continues his approach. He doesn’t want Oswald to start a scuffle with the cops who are already on edge with the shootouts.

As Jim narrows the gap between them, a corner of Victor’s mouth draws up appreciating the fact his facial lacerations have done nothing to detract from his looks. If anything, Jim looks pretty sexy a little busted up.

Jim addresses the barricade officers.

“Officers, it’s okay. Let him through.”

Oswald gives Jim a sharp look then turns to the officers and smiles smugly.

“Thank you, _Jim!_ ”

Oswald walks through but as soon as Zsasz and his Girls try to follow, Jim holds up his hand. He says in a stern and authoritative voice to Victor.

“Only Oswald. I will let you know when you can join him.”

Victor pauses, subtly raises his hands, draws down the corners of his mouth and tilts his head, blinking once in deference to Jim’s badge. He nods once for The Girls to stand down.

The cops at the barricade all puff out their chests and smile smugly at Zsasz and company.

Oswald glares at Jim, turns to look at Zsasz, then returns his attention back to Jim. His glare immediately turns into a look of apprehension.

_“Wh-What?”_

Jim grabs Oswald’s arm in a firm grip. He gives the small kingpin a rough shake as he starts lugging the small man along.

“You heard me. Walk!”

Jim makes his way back towards the ransacked building. All the while, his grip on Penguin gets tighter.

Oswald shuffles and trips numerous times trying to keep up with Jim’s pace. He squeaks out indignantly.

“You can’t treat _me_ this _way!_ I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Jim halts in his tracks and jerks the small man to his face. He growls.

“I can either drag you or you can keep walking. Your choice.”

As Victor and his Girls confer among themselves, Victor squints a discriminating eye at the tense, private exchange Jim is having with Penguin.

_Interesting._

Jim lugs Oswald through the alley and into the busted side door. All the while, Oswald stutters and tries to plead with him. Jim isn't listening. His anger is building exponentially as they near the building; he wants to throttle the little bird.

He pulls Oswald along to the freezer area.

“Jim! Stop! You can’t just…”

Jim’s grip clamps down harder, making the little man squeak in pain. He opens the freezer door and violently shoves Oswald inside. The small kingpin stumbles and slips on the icy floor. He tumbles to the floor and slides, smacking his shoulder and head into the icy Riddler block.

Jim closes the door and waits for Oswald to get up and compose himself.

Oswald shakily stands and steadies himself. He straightens out his crumpled suit jacket then turns to face Jim. He steels his resolve and addresses the detective soberly.

“I can explain…”

Jim grins and cuts him off.

“What’s to explain? I don’t see anything that needs explaining, do you?”

Oswald double takes on Jim with his mouth agape. Thick visible plumes of warm breath billow out from his mouth into the cold air.

Jim slowly approaches Penguin; the darkness inside of him wants to feast on the small man. His hands twitch with the thought of wrapping them around Oswald’s neck, fingers gripping tightly. Jim takes a long breath in, willing his hunger to come down a notch or two. He doesn’t want to get carried away and have to deal with the aftermath.

Oswald trembles; his eyes widen as Jim proceeds to corner him up against the ice block. He holds up a hand in an attempt to stop Jim from getting any closer.

“J-Jim? W-what is it you want? Name it.”

Gordon corners the small kingpin against the icy tomb of his frozen nemesis. His left hand darts out around Oswald’s neck but doesn't squeeze down just yet. His right arm snakes around the small man’s waist, pulling him in. He can feel himself swell rapidly. He presses harder into the small man, enjoying the feel of Oswald’s body against his erection.

Oswald lets out a terrified whimper. His hands quickly clamp down around the hand at his neck in attempt to pry it off.

Jim tightens his grip and hisses between clenched teeth. He gives the small man a few rough shakes by the neck. Oswald stops struggling and turns his frightened gaze towards Jim’s hard blue eyes.

Although Jim thinks Oswald is good looking, in-fact beautiful to behold, he’s not in Victor’s league. He wants a male companion capable of keeping up with him; Zsasz is the total package. He smiles sadistically at the man in his arms.

“You can keep your icy trophy. What I want is for you to get hold of the underworld. _But_ if you start getting greedy, I will _end_ you!”

Jim’s fingers start squeezing around the slender neck in his grasp. Oswald gasps and begins to struggle once more, but Jim’s still stronger than him, even if wounded.

Jim leans in a hair’s width away from Oswald’s face.

“We understand each other?”

Oswald closes his eyes and nods. Jim looks the small man up and down then whispers into his ear.

“That’s a good boy.”

Jim lets him go and quickly exits the freezer and building.

Victor’s wounded men receive medical attention, and his other men eventually join him and The Girls outside. They provide Victor details about the attack on the club until they see Jim exit the building and approach. Zsasz watches Jim's familiar Detective Gordon persona address the unies.

“Officers, you can let Oswald’s security detail in.”

Jim doesn't give Zsasz another look, but swiftly turns and heads back to his car. He takes out his phone to shoot Victor a text. He sees that Victor responded to his earlier text about his guards.

 

_“at the mansion_

_done_

_don’t get anything important shot”_

He smiles and glances back at Zsasz.

 

 _“Just an arm._ _Nothing too important._

_Foxglove,_

_just tell me when.”_

 

As Victor and his staff make their way to the club, he hears a text drop in. Zsasz glances down at it, shakes his head and puffs out an amused chuckle.

 

_Well I’ll be._

Victor fires off a quick response.

_“k. i’ll be in touch soon”_

 

 

—>z<—

Victor and his crew enter the club to find Penguin standing among its ruins. The walls are riddled with bullet holes and the floors are littered with broken glass, expended shell casings, chunks of drywall and bits of plaster. Given how much the kingpin’s pacing, Zsasz fully expects him to erupt into a fit of rage. Instead, Oswald hobbles up and addresses his lieutenant with uncharacteristic acquiescence, even meekness.

“Victor, in light of recent events, I no longer require you or your women to follow Detective Gordon. Furthermore, I’m considering a drastic reduction in the club's security detail, at least for the time being. We can discuss details tomorrow.”

Zsasz raises a brow and nods before turning to his Girls.

“Ladies, you heard the man. Go find some day laborers for cleanup. Have Xochitl bring me the car keys, then consider yourselves dismissed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first foray into a multi-chapter story with an actual plot *and* an action sequence. Suffice to say I was kinda freaked about developing an action sequence, especially given how masterfully FC can develop one. I mean, really now. How crazy awesome was that insane attack on the Iceberg Lounge, y'all? FC writes the best action sh!t! 
> 
> Still though, I’ve gotta give FC props on the comic genius of Gordlock at the Smiling Bean, because holy f*ck knuckles, that is some funny sh!t! :D 
> 
> Honestly, I am *SO* jealous of FC’s ability to masterfully capture Harvey Bullock. *falls to the ground and grovels at FC’s feet* 
> 
> (I’m not kidding. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone back and read that whole thing. Really. I can’t tell you because I don’t think I can count that high.)
> 
> Oh wait! And FC’s Tetchy Dark!Jim?! *DELISH!* (Naughty, NAUGHTY Jimbo!)
> 
> Again, thanks for reading, y’all. More great sh!t on the way. -o- }8>
> 
> ___________________
> 
> Owl flatters me too much with that attack on Iceberg scene. I wanted there to be a perfect situation for Jim to go in and discover Edward. I beamed when Owl finished the attack on Oswald's mansion. That some good shit. I love the Freeze and Firefly scenes and Zsasz being utterly delighted by their kill methods. 
> 
> Also love that she wrote Zsasz as a helpful sweetheart to Olga. That's just a thing I love. I would seriously love a series that follows Zsasz and Olga is his housekeeper. =)
> 
> There are plans in the works (on my end) to pump out a chapter or two of Harvey's POV during this fic. It will be a companion piece to another fic spin-off from Boxcutter (Jim-only piece about him going vigilante). This may take some time to come out. I'm currently in the middle of moving and and setting up a new farm. Maybe by fall or winter I will start posting to AO3.
> 
> I feel inclined to indulge Jess with a Harvey fic because I just can't deny that woman. :)
> 
> ~FC


	9. Nurse Zsasz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Victor and his team help Oswald clean up the devastated club and mansion, he decides to pay Jim a visit at his apartment. 
> 
> Once there, Victor finds himself dealing with a drug-addled detective.

—>z<—

After a long day of clean-up and driving Penguin back to the Van Dahl estate, Victor’s finally dismissed for the night. Zsasz later stands in front of a familiar door with some odds and ends from a bodega and some nearby food trucks.

Jim’s lying on his couch, feeling toasty with the painkillers prescribed to him. He also has a bottle of antibiotics and a bag of bandages sitting on the coffee table. He thinks he heard someone at the door but isn’t sure. He flips through the channels, remaining in his horizontal position.

Victor takes a peek through the window and can see that Jim’s home. He shifts the paper bag in his arm onto his hip and knocks a second time with the hand carrying the plastic bags.

Jim perks his head towards his front door. He sits up and turns off the TV. He rubs his face and slowly gets off the couch. He wobbles to the door and states loudly as he opens it.

“You’re late!”

Victor stands at threshold of Jim’s door with an arched brow.

“For…?”

Jim blinks a couple of times at Zsasz. He's sure Harvey said he was the one coming over and not Victor. He leans out of the door and looks past the perplexed man. He eyes his unexpected visitor with a confused look. Jim runs a hand through his hair and laughs in disbelief.

“Uh —did you —call me?”

Jim looks the assassin over and notices he’s carrying a large load. He grabs the paper bag from him and walks ( _more like wobbles_ ) towards the kitchen island. He deposits the bag and furrows his brow at the man standing in his doorway.

Zsasz shakes his head and shrugs.

“Nope. Just thought I’d drop by and make sure you were okay.”

Victor walks in and closes the door. He regards Jim fully, noting his unsteady gait into the kitchen. He soberly questions Jim.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

Jim starts unloading the items in the bag. He can smell the rich aromas of various food items from the containers as he places them on the island surface. He stops and gives Zsasz a confused look ( _again_ ). He remembers last time he ate was when he was at the pharmacy to pick up his prescriptions.

“Hm. I had half a bag of chips around noon. A half hour ago, I finished the bag with some codeine.”

Jim points to the pharmacy bag on the coffee table.

Victor raises a brow and glances at the coffee table. He walks over to it and rummages through the bag to inventory its contents before returning to the kitchen. He pulls out a stool and nods Jim towards it.

“Sit.”

Jim raises his hand (the left one) in surrender and smiles a large lopsided grin. He leans over the island placing his left elbow on the surface, resting his chin on his palm. He gives Victor an appreciative look. He’s sure he is either dreaming or hallucinating Zsasz in his kitchen.

“I’m not sure if you’re really here or not, but I’m enjoying the view.”

 _This_ Jim is a far cry from the authoritative lawman who denied him access to Penguin’s ruined club earlier. Victor shakes his head and chuckles as he gives Jim the once over. The detective still hasn’t bothered to sit and the assassin questions his ability to do so on a stool.

“Okay, Jim. Change of plans.”

Victor stands beside Jim, holding him by the left arm and waist to guide him to the couch.

“ _Sit_.”

Jim gives Victor a quick kiss on the cheek then plops down on the couch. He settles onto the cushions with his head propped on an armrest. He smiles up at Victor.

Victor smirks down at the lovely mess that is Jim Gordon and shakes his head before returning to the kitchen. He rummages for a bottle opener for the mineral water and grabs a sports drink before grabbing bags of food and returning to Jim.

“Ya gotta eat. I didn’t know what you liked —well, besides a meatball sub and Lem’s is closed. I brought different stuff: a burger, a gyro and Chinese. Whatcha want?”

He also holds up the bottled water and sports drink at Jim.

“Take your pick.”

Jim points at the water. He thinks about the food but nothing really sounds good. He settles on the burger.

“I guess the burger. Not really hungry, though.”

He looks up at the stern visage of the assassin. He blinks and smiles.

“I will _try_ to eat. I can’t promise anything though.”

“I’ll settle for try. Ya gonna lay there and eat? How ‘bout we sit up?”

Victor reaches beneath Jim’s left forearm and secures him by the elbow to help him into an upright position.

“Upsy daisy.”

Zsasz nods towards Jim’s bandage before joining him on the couch.

“You’re not supposed to get that wet.”

Jim looks Victor with a raised eyebrow, at total loss about what he is referring to. He looks at his t-shirt then at his pajama bottoms, stretching the fabrics out to look them over. He shakes his head and realizes he means his bandages. The embarrassment at his lack of normal comprehension is mercifully mitigated by how doped up he feels. His mind is rapidly getting hazy and soon comprehension will be entirely gone.

“Well, I had to shower. I was soaked in blood and sweat. I had a lot of grime on me from the attack on your boss’ club.”

He grins when he recalls Oswald’s vehement retorts and eventual whimpers of fear.

Victor tilts his head and smiles before shrugging.

“Occupational hazard. It was definitely an eventful day. Oh, I dunno whatcha told The Boss, but The Girls and me won’t be following you anymore.”

As Victor talks to the detective, he fishes the burger out of the bag and opens it. He peels down the wrapper halfway before handing it to Jim.

Jim looks the burger over and takes out the onions, tomatoes, and lettuce. He throws the remnants on the coffee table. He takes a large bite and glances at Victor. He says with a full mouth.

“I told that little asshole he can keep Edward only if he gets the underworld in his power and keeps himself from getting too greedy. I also may have used some persuasive techniques.”

Jim brings up his index finger and thumb in a gesture to mean “a small amount”.

Victor puffs out a small chuckle and grabs the box of chicken lo mein out of the bag. He slides the chopsticks from their sleeve, breaks them apart and opens the container while he takes in this very different side of Jim. He shakes his head and arches an eyebrow before poking into the box for some noodles.

“Well, having _personally_ experienced your persuasive techniques, Penguin didn’t stand a chance.”

He grins back at Jim and winks before stuffing a huge bite of Chinese in his mouth.

Jim takes another bite of his burger and sets it down on the coffee table. He opens his water and chugs a few long swallows. Despite his hazy memory recall, he’s able to remember how he terrorized the small man. He turns his attention to Victor as he digs into his food.

“How do you put up with him?”

Victor shrugs casually as he finishes chewing.

“That’s just how he is. The fact he pays very, _very_ well probably helps too.”

“I liked him better as Mooney’s umbrella boy. He was at least tolerable back then.”

Jim sets his water down; he can feel the drugs working hard on him. A fuzzy, and not all too pleasant warmth begins to radiate from his stomach. He slumps down hard against the backrest of the couch.

“I’m sorry. I’m not going to be very good company tonight.”

He can feel that he’s going to be sick. He takes a few deep breaths and it passes.

Victor shrugs.

“I just came by to make sure you were okay and had some food —and you’re still better company than the Boss.”

Zsasz leans in and winks at Jim.

“Those (glancing to the codeine) are making you sick. Don’t like ‘em. Never take the stuff.”

He nods towards Jim’s bandage.

“Say, lemme change your dressing while you’re still upright.”

Zsasz removes his gloves and tosses them onto the coffee table. He raises a brow at Jim waiting for a response.

Jim looks at his bandages on his right arm. He nods at Victor and rolls up the sleeve to his t-shirt. He closes his eyes to rest a bit, he feels Zsasz shift on the couch as his mind slips into a light sleep.

Victor furrows his brow and firmly cups his hand beneath Jim’s right arm to stabilize it.

“This might sting a little.”

Victor reaches for the corner of the surgical tape and pulls off the bandage with one quick yank.

Jim’s could feel himself slipping into oblivion. Then. _White._ _Hot._ _Fire_. He sits up and cries out with a hiss.

“Holy FU—CK!”

He bites his left hand that has balled up into a fist and slumps back into the couch. He gives Victor a look of betrayal.

Victor shrugs with feigned innocence.

“Sorry.”

The assassin turns his attention to the wound, appraising the stitching. Jim did manage to keep the bandage fairly dry despite his shower. The wound is still clean, save some seepage (which he expected). He releases Jim’s arm and rummages through the bag from the drugstore. All it had was a box of gauze squares and surgical tape. Victor had a few blades on him to cut the gauze and tape, but he generally reserved them for _very_ _different_ purposes. He decides to utilize something more conventional.

“You got scissors anywhere?”

Jim thinks as hard as he can and points towards this bedroom.

“Somewhere; there.”

Jim shrugs.

Victor makes his way into Jim’s bedroom, then bathroom, where he finds scissors and alcohol. He rolls up his sleeves, washes and dries his hands as well as the scissors before returning to Jim on the couch. He grabs the surgical tape and gauze, shaking his head.

“This stuff is cheap. The gauze is gonna stick to your stitching and wound and this tape’s not gonna last long. I’ve got surgical grade gauze sponges and tape. I’ll bring you some later.”

Victor uses the squares to clean the scissors and his hands with alcohol, before drying excess moisture from the wound and redressing him.

“Hey. You still with me?”

Jim doesn’t recall Victor ever getting off the couch, much less returning next to him. He rolls his head to the right to look at Victor. His mind slips to and from consciousness ever so often. He opens his eyes when he hears Victor ask him a question. He’s about to answer when his phone rings.

Victor grabs Jim’s phone from the coffee table and hands it to him.

Jim paws at the phone and opens it.

“Yeah.”

“Jimbo, you okay buddy? I’m comin' over to check on ya. Need anythin'?”

Jim breathes out hard and says with a long breath.

“Ummmm—”

He nearly slips into sleep, but Harvey’s loud voice snaps him out of the pulling darkness.

“Hey, I’ll bring some food. Did’ya eat yet?”

Jim tries to clear his thinking, but he’s having a hard time focusing. He looks over at Zsasz as he continues to replace his bandages.

“Yeah, I had a burger. Two bites.”

Harvey chuckles.

“You sound so doped up.”

“I...um.”

Jim is having a hard time keeping awake and holding the phone to his ear. He holds out the device for Victor to take.

Victor shoots Jim a wide-eyed look. He quickly covers the mouthpiece and grabs the man by the chin with his other hand and sternly addresses him through gritted teeth.

“ _Jim_. _Look_ at me. _Bullock’s_ on the phone. You need to _talk to him._ ”

Zsasz shakes Jim’s chin and raises his brow.

“You _with_ me?”

Jim slow blinks and shakes his head as he takes back the phone. He blurts out.

“Hey —I need to go now.”

“Jimbo, I’m gonna come over with some food. Unless your 'bout to sleep. I can come over in the mornin'.”

Jim scoffs and looks at Victor.

“I’m good. Zsasz is here changing my bandages; fuck _is_ he rough…”

Victor chuckles quietly and leans into Jim’s other ear growling.

“You have _no_ _idea_.”

Jim lets out a soft moan and smiles back at Victor.

Harvey laughs loudly through the earpiece. Both men can hear his bellowing chuckles.

“Sure pal! Is Mooney there with you, too? Sounds like you’re high as a kite. I won’t bug ya then. I'll drop by tomorrow to make sure you eat somethin'. Smooth sailin', Captain Gordon.”

Harvey laughs as he ends the call.

Jim looks up at Victor and smiles sheepishly.

“He didn’t believe me.”

Victor shakes his head and chuckles.

“He’s not the only one. _That_ is why I _hate_ that stuff.”

Jim gives Zsasz a large smile and shrugs.

“You almost done? I kind of want to lay down.”

“All patched up. You sleepin’ here or in your bedroom?”

Jim purses his lips and gives Victor a sad look.

“Are you going to leave as soon as you put me down?”

“I wasn’t planning on _‘putting you down’_ … (winking) “...but ya gotta rest. I’m happy to stay or go. Your choice.”

Jim reaches out with his left hand and caresses Victor’s face. Jim strokes his fingers along Victor’s jawline and finishes by curling them under the assassin’s smooth chin. He looks into his eyes and begs.

“Stay with me, _please.”_

“Done. You still didn’t answer my question. You sleepin’ here (looking down to the couch) or in there?”  Victor nods toward the bedroom.

“The bedroom of course. I want to hold you.”

He gives Zsasz a smile and slowly blinks.

Victor blinks in surprise at Jim’s request. He quickly furrows a brow and nods once before standing and extending a hand to Jim.

Jim grabs the offered hand and stands shakily. He feels an arm wrap around his waist and his left arm being placed over Victor’s shoulder. He smiles and showers the smooth face before him in kisses.

“You make me happy, Victor.”

Zsasz struggles to process Jim’s words and behavior. He’s surprised to find himself charmed by them, despite being convinced it’s just the pain meds talking. It wasn't all that long ago Jim was actively trying to ditch him. Victor nods and presses his lips together. He offers Jim a circumspect smile.

“C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

As Victor guides Jim into his bedroom, he nods over to the bathroom.

“You gotta hit the head first?”

“I’m good.”

Jim points towards the bed.

Victor takes the smaller man’s arm from his shoulder and positions him with his back to the bed, nodding toward it.

“You first.”

Jim pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back of his neck with his left hand. He then yanks it over his head, taking care with his right arm as the fabric falls off. He makes quick work of his pajama bottoms and plops down onto his bed. He sprawls out in the middle of the mattress and lets out a large sigh. He peers over at Victor, his eyelids feeling heavier by the second.

Victor knows (if he stays the entire night in Jim’s bed) it will be the longest night of his life. He inhales deeply and exhales a loud sigh to shore his resolve. Zsasz shrugs out of his shoulder holster, placing it atop Jim’s dresser alongside his service pistol and badge. The irony is not lost on him.

He removes his jacket and tosses it to the foot of the bed. Soon, his vest joins. He crouches down to unlace his boots and stands to toe them off, moving them to a corner and out of the way. He removes his belt and adds them to his jacket and vest, before looking down at the rest of clothes. Zsasz doesn’t customarily wear any clothes to bed, but elects to leave them on in an attempt to keep the absurd arrangement as chaste as possible.

Zsasz furrows his brow and presses his lips together. He pulls out his phone to text his Girls that he won’t be joining them tonight. Victor clenches his jaw and joins Jim.

Jim rolls to his left and emits a long sigh of contentment when he feels Zsasz climb into bed. He feels an arm wrap around his body; he turns his head to look at Victor.

“I was worried about you today; all I thought about was whether or not you were hurt.”

He turns his head from Victor, pulls his pillow down and fluffs it a bit. He rests his head back down on it.

Victor furrows his brow, confused by the small swell of affection he’s feeling. He forces himself to ignore it and idly quips in jest.

“You sure about that? Not too long ago you and your strike force were shooting at me outside Hobbs’ campaign office. Still got the scar to prove it.”

Jim replies sleepily.

“We both tried killing each other.”

Victor screws up his mouth. He can’t help but wonder what will happen the next time he and Jim are forced to face one another down the barrel of a gun. His only response is to grasp Jim more firmly, raising his lips to his ear.

“Go to sleep, Jim.”

Jim can hear the strain in Victor’s voice but he’s unable to process why. His drug-addled mind clears all thoughts from forming. He only knows that he wants Zsasz, the only man who knows him completely, like no other.

He sighs and whispers under his breath.

“You are the only one who knows me.”

Jim sighs again and nuzzles his pillow. The sleep of a drug-induced coma swiftly claims him.

Victor holds Jim and stares off into the dark. Only after he hears Jim’s sleep deepen for several long minutes, does he pull him closer and nuzzle the back of his neck. Zsasz furrows his brow and plants a kiss in Jim’s high taper. He can’t remember the last time he actually _slept_ in someone else’s bed and it unnerves him.

He lies with Jim for almost an hour before he pulls away. He gets up and returns to Jim’s living room, picking up food containers and boxing them up to put into the fridge after he polishes off the rest of his lo mein. He cleans up Jim’s discarded vegetables from his burger, washes some dishes and organizes medical supplies on the coffee table.

Zsasz walks around Jim’s apartment and studies the very few personal items he has out —mostly military mementos and photos from his army service, stuff from the GCPD and a few commendations. He sees a picture of his father, the legendary D.A. that Don Falcone endlessly spoke of and notes the resemblance between father and son.

When he arrives upon a photo of a young Jim Gordon with his parents, Zsasz’s mind drifts to what little he can remember of his own deceased ones, having lost them at a young age. He briefly recalls who he _used to be_ and how he _used to feel_ especially before the fateful night of his first kill. The unexpected memories and their accompanying feelings overwhelm him. He then recalls Jim’s earlier drug-addled ~~confession~~ rambling.

_“You make me happy, Victor.”_

He quirks a brow and screws up his mouth.

_Is that what Jim makes me?_

Zsasz folds his arms beneath his chest. He rests an elbow on a hand and places a fist over his mouth.

Victor ruminates over what he thinks “happy” means and when he feels it: the swell of pride after a successful hit, the pleasure that comes from watching someone pointlessly beg for their life and the smug satisfaction that comes from watching that very life fade from their eyes. There’s the contentment after carving another tally into his flesh, a great fuck, acquiring a new knife or a gun —even a fantastic meal.

The problem is, Jim is _none_ of those things. He’s not a thing or an event, but an actual _person_. The realization rattles Victor.

At that moment, Zsasz is overcome by the sudden urge to immediately leave Jim’s apartment. He quickly returns to the bedroom and gathers his clothes to do just that, before looking down at the sleeping man and stopping himself.

He recalls assuring Jim that he’d stay the night with him and he prided himself on being a man of his word, but it’s not just that. The man that lie sleeping before him isn’t just anyone.

_It’s Jim Gordon._

Not only is Victor is inexplicably and inexorably drawn to Jim, but he _respects_ him. _Deeply_. There is no way he can go back on his word. _Not to Jim._ The assassin sighs before he returns his clothes where he left them and rejoins the detective on the bed.

Jim rouses from sleep just a bit and sighs when he feels Victor wrap his arm around him again.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Jim.”

“I was worried you left.”

“Just straightened up a little out there. Look, I’ll be outta here before Bullock shows up tomorrow morning. Did he say when he's coming by?”

Jim sighs and says.

“It’s Harvey. He’s at a bar. Drinking. Maybe two in the afternoon.”

“Guess I’m gonna be here awhile —unless you get tired of me before then.”

Jim turns his head and looks at Victor. He smiles and purrs sleepily.

“After that hot hook-up in the garage? You think I’m done with you?”

“That’s some big talk from someone who couldn’t get himself off the couch without help earlier.”

Jim smiles and rolls onto his back.

“Minor setback I assure you.”

He turns his head and looks Victor up and down.

“Why are you wearing all of your clothes to bed?”

“ _Not_ because I want to.”

Jim raises his left arm and rests it over his head. His mind’s still hazy, but he’s doing his best to not succumb to the effects of the drugs once more.

“Seems awfully uncomfortable.”

“My discomfort _isn_ ’ _t_ because of my clothes.”

Victor shifts beside Jim.

Jim raises himself to a sitting position ( _mistake_ ). He shakes his head to clear off the dizziness and turns his body to face Victor. He leans in and places a kiss on his lips. He then purrs as he says.

“I can appreciate you holding yourself back.”

“ _Not_ helping, Jim.”

“Do you think I’m faring any better?”

Jim plants his lips on Victor and lets his tongue slip out to lick his lips, imploring to be let in.

Victor furrows his brow and futilely tries reining in his desire and the stirring in his pants. He reaches behind Jim’s neck, tilts his head and opens his mouth wide. He moans and plunges his tongue deeply into Jim’s mouth.

Jim moans as their tongues play with each other. He shifts and rolls over Victor. He pulls away from the kiss and sits up ( _more dizziness_ ) to straddle the man beneath him.

Victor’s breath quickly gets away from him and his rapidly-building erection strains firmly against his pants. He quickly grabs for Jim’s ass and rolls his hips into the man’s, pressing against his groin and rocking. Zsasz’s jaw slackens as the friction stokes the fire below.

Jim gasps as he feels the rock hard erection between his legs. The thin fabric of his boxers shields nothing from him. His dizziness intensifies as his body bobs up and down with Victor’s undulations. He moans and softly gasps out.

“Victor.”

Victor quickly unbuttons his cuffs before working the buttons of his shirt and yanking it out of his pants. He raises his upper body and reaches for his collar to pull his shirt over his shoulders and head before impatiently tossing it to the floor. He hurriedly reaches to unbutton and unzip his trousers. Zsasz slips his thumbs beneath both waistbands as he hungrily gazes up at the man straddling him.

Jim loses the ability to remain coherent; he feels the strong pull of dizziness and exhaustion once more. The room and his companion are all hazy in his view. He flops down on Victor’s body succumbing to his drug-induced stupor again. He stretches out over the warm body under him and nuzzles Victor’s neck. He lets out a soft sigh before drifting off.

Victor resolutely clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut at the confirmation that this will _indeed_ be the longest night of his life. After puffing out a huge sigh, he shifts to make himself as comfortable as he can beneath Jim. His engorged and neglected cock presses firmly against the passed-out detective. Zsasz clenches his teeth and concentrates hard, forcing his body to calm.

Eventually, Victor plants a kiss atop Jim’s head and wraps his right arm around the sleeping man, hoping beyond hope that _somehow_ , _some_ way he might _actually_ manage to get some sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zsasz *feelings*?!
> 
> This fic forced me to get WAY more inside Zsasz’s head. Yeah, I’ve explored Zsasz feelings in a couple of my other fics (“Unruhe” and “Kintsugi”), but not like I do here in “Boxcutter”. I’ve struggled with and pained endlessly over it on this project. (Poor FC’s had to constantly reassure me about it. ;D *womp*womp* I LURVE YOU, SISTAH!)
> 
> My familiarity with Zsasz’s comic origin story is largely thanks to ao3’s Hammocker and reading stuff on the internet, not because I’ve personally read the comics. (Hammy’s gotta little comic/Gotham Zsasz mash-up thing kinda goin’ on in her fics. Check ‘em out if you haven’t already.) You comic fans know I made some changes to Victor’s origin story. For those who stick around and read FilthyCasual’s Jim AU spinoff, you’ll figure out why. 
> 
> I’ve gotta say.... that’s some juicy stuff she’s got cookin’. 
> 
> Still, my beloved Victor’s a tough nut to crack. Crossin’ fingers I didn’t disappoint.
> 
> More seriously good sh!t on the way, despite my —I mean *Zsasz’s* current sexual frustration. (FC’s got more Jimbo deliciousness comin’, y’all! Seriously!) 
> 
> For those of you who’ve made it this far, thank you kindly for the read! 
> 
> If you’ve any feelings about Zsasz’s pesky feelings or anything else about this fic, we’d love to hear from you. Oh yeah, and if you find any errors. Remember, *you* are our beta-reader(s)! Sorry/not sorry.
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ________________
> 
> I liked this chapter for the sole reason I didn't have to dive into Jim's head with it. Narcotics kind of do that—no thinking just feeling. I've had one too many bad experiencing with codeine and applied it here.
> 
> This chapter was more about Zsasz and his internal dialogue in regards to Jim. I know Owl was apprehensive about it all. She did an excellent job of keeping the mental journey true to Victor. Sure in the beginning Victor was just trying to get a taste of Jim, someone he had a thought or two about in the past. But as the fic progresses his attachment is very evident despite the sparing amounts of deep internal character dialogue.
> 
> Jim on the other hand is a big F'ing mess of colliding thoughts and emotions while desperately trying to maintain a level of cool and rational thinking. It's almost like juggling—with chainsaws.
> 
> Yeah this chapter was definitely a break for me =)
> 
> ~FC


	10. Waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending the night caring for the wounded detective and putting up with some sexual frustration, Zsasz awakes to a very apologetic Jim.

—>j<—

Morning light shines through the bedroom, rousing Jim from sleep. He finds himself on top of Victor with his face buried in his neck and their limbs entwined. He peels his face from the crook of Victor’s neck and peers up at him.

Jim winces at the sudden growing ache in his arm. The pain starts to radiate up his shoulder, neck, and back. His right arm is basically stiff and useless; he shifts onto his left arm to loom over the sleeping assassin under him.

_Painkillers are definitely out of my system now._

Jim takes a moment to admire the way Zsasz looks as he sleeps. His eyes roam the smooth and pale face below him. Jim smiles down at Victor’s perfect mouth as soft puffs of breath escape from his parted lips.

He tries to recall the evening, but he only remembers bits and pieces. He remembers Zsasz coming to his apartment and trying to feed him, then fragments of muddled memories.

Jim plants a small kiss on Victor’s lips and whispers.

“Victor.”

Victor opens an eye and sleepily replies.

“You need me to go now?”

Jim shakes his head.

“From the looks of it, it’s only seven or eight in the morning. We have time.”

He smiles down at the sleepy man and plants a kiss on his forehead.

Zsasz shifts and lazily raises a brow.

“For…?”

Jim shakes his head and scoffs.

“Time to relax. Time for me to kiss you. Time for us to enjoy the morning.”

“So whatcha talkin’ for?”

Jim leans over and plants his lips on the sleepy man. He pulls back and looks down at Victor’s body.

“I thought I remember you taking your clothes off or something?”

“I only managed to get my shirt off before you passed out on top of me. That’s why I’m still wearing _these_.” Victor frowns down at his pants.

Jim looks back down at Victor’s bare chest. He smiles at the groggy man then leans in and plants kisses on his neck. His tongue slips out to trace a wet trail from Victor’s collarbone to his ear.

Victor purrs at the sensation and slowly drags his palms down Jim’s back, lightly trailing his thumbs down his lats. His hands descend further and reach for Jim’s haunches. He firmly cups the smaller man glutes in his hands and begins slowly kneading them. Zsasz then sinks his fingers into Jim’s ass to bring his hips in closer and begins rocking upward.

Jim moans with approval. He runs his finger tips down Victor’s chest as he sits up to straddle him. He smiles down at Victor and offers apologetically.

“I have no idea what I put you through last night, but I have a feeling I may have tried something.”

Victor raises a brow and stretches an open-mouthed smile on one side of his face. He thrusts into Jim more assertively and feels an erection stir.

“Something warranting ‘punishment’ maybe?”

Zsasz smiles as he releases his right hand from Jim’s ass and firmly smacks it.

Jim gasps with the sudden stinging contact. He bites his lower lip and moans. He glances down at the smiling man. He lets his gaze slip down to Victor’s exposed upper body and fully assesses the amount of confirmed kills on him.

_I should be sickened and appalled but..._

He leans over and kisses the raised scar tissue on Victor’s left side of his chest, near his heart. He slowly tongues each raised score then works towards the next nearest set.

The warm drag of Jim’s tongue sliding along his tally marks causes Victor to stiffen more. He briefly removes his hands from Jim and slips them beneath the waistband of his boxers to grasp the bare flesh of the man’s ass. Victor squeezes the detective’s firm glutes and begins rocking more urgently into him.

Zsasz raises his head off the pillow to gaze down at their grinding hips and Jim's waking erection. His jaw slackens at the sight. Victor’s unzipped trousers from the night prior loosen from the body contact and movement.

Jim sits back up and gasps as Victor’s erection rapidly hardens to its full length between his legs. The feel of Victor’s hands roughly grabbing into his flesh as he thrusts into him, sends Jim over the edge. His body begins to radiate heat as his anticipation grows. He eyes the man underneath him and whispers through a moan.

“I need you.”

Victor moans at the sight of the man above him and his wanton declaration. Zsasz quickly removes his hands from Jim’s boxers and begins sliding his thumbs beneath his own waistbands to inch down his pants and boxer briefs.

Jim slides off of Victor so he can easily get his pants down and off. He sits to the side as he watches him strip everything below his waist.

Fear of the unknown causes his guts to seize; his gaze turns away from Victor. He’s not sure how rough Zsasz will be with him. He’s never had sex that involved being on the receiving end. He feels his heart race as a bit of fear creeps into his mind. Jim is positive that no amount of preparation will make it any less painful. Victor isn’t exactly a normal-sized man.

Jim takes in a long breath and tries to calm down.

After Victor removes his remaining clothing and kicks them off the foot of the bed, he looks to Jim.

“Come here.”

Jim leans in and cautiously shifts his body closer. His wounded arm throbs in protest. Unsure of what to do, he carefully leans over and gives Victor an apprehensive kiss.

Victor’s excitement and impatience cause him to forget Jim’s arm and obvious inexperience. When he finally comes to his senses, he furrows a brow and changes tactic. He decides to approach Jim instead, rising from his recumbent position and sitting up on his knees as he rests his haunches on his heels. Victor inches closer to the smaller man from behind, slotting Jim between his knees.

Zsasz groans softly as his inner thighs come in contact with Jim’s hips and outer thighs. He slips his arms beneath Jim’s and nuzzles his neck. His erection lightly thuds against Jim’s back and his aching expanse presses flush against his body. Victor prods his length against the detective as he leans in and explores Jim’s neck with his tongue and his teeth.

Jim doesn't know what to make of the sudden position. He quivers with the presence of Victor’s mouth on his neck and the hard hot cock against his back. His arm throbs painfully; his heart’s already racing wildly. He glances back at Victor wanting to say something but he stops himself.

Victor feels Jim’s hesitation and leans into his ear.

“You hurting? We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Jim lowers his head and sighs in relief.

“I’m in a bit of pain to be honest. Also, I’ve never had sex with another man. You’re my first. I’m not exactly sure what to expect.”

Victor squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his jaw at Jim’s confession, relieved to be behind him because he’s having difficulty schooling his face. Once more, Zsasz says things with a voice he scarcely recognizes as his own.

“We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll let you to decide what that is.”

He pecks the back of Jim’s neck and sighs.

“You need more pain meds? Food? What can I do for you, Jim?”

Jim turns his head and gazes back. He finds himself charmed by Victor’s gentleness and patience. Then, an uneasy feeling begins to grow in the pit of his stomach.

_Not long ago I was ready to get rid of him. He’s here doing his best to take care of me. Damn it —we can’t continue this way._

He doesn’t want to dwell on the inevitable doom so early in the morning. He clears his throat and replies.

“Maybe some food and more pills, but just the antibiotics. I don't want the painkillers. I’d rather suffer through the pain than go through _that_ again.”

He smiles back at Zsasz.

“You want leftovers from yesterday or breakfast stuff? I know you don’t have any. I already looked. The only food you have is what I brought. Whatcha want?”

Jim thinks a moment. He shuffles his body around to face Victor. He lets his left hand rub Victor’s right thigh.

“I could go for waffles.”

Victor smiles and nods.

“Done. Just one thing first. I've gotta request.”

Jim’s busy looking at his hand as he strokes Victor’s smooth skin. Jim stops stroking and smiles.

“What is it? What’s your request?”

“Can ya gimme a few minutes to deal with _this?_ ”

Victor looks down.

Jim shifts his eyes towards what Victor is looking at. He feels his face burn with the onset of a blush. He smiles and bites his lower lip as he slithers up close to Victor. He plants a couple of kisses on his neck and purrs.

“Can I watch?”

Victor raises a brow and smiles suggestively. He growls in Jim’s ear.

“ _Of_ _course_. Here? In the shower? Any other place in mind?”

Jim thinks for a second and shakes his head. He glides his fingers over Victor’s chest then downward to his abdominals. He lightly strums his fingertips on the head of Victor’s cock. He casts his gaze downwards to watch as his fingertips continue to caress the tip. He replies.

“I can’t join you in the shower because of my bandage. Go ahead and start now.”

Victor rises from the bed to stand before Jim. He reaches down for Jim’s left hand to stand him up. Once face-to-face with the smaller man, Victor descends to his knees and begins removing Jim’s boxers.

Jim gasps in excitement as his boxers are pulled down. He steps out of them once the garment falls to his feet. The proximity of Victor to his now engorged cock has him ready and wanting. He caresses Victor’s smooth head with his left hand.

“Oh, Victor…”

Victor looks up at Jim and raises one corner of his mouth before reaching for Jim’s shaft. He slowly encloses his mouth around Jim, moaning at his taste and heady scent. As Victor slowly takes him into his mouth, he reaches down and takes himself into his hand, quietly moaning. He sucks eagerly at the head of Jim’s dick, before flicking the underside of his tongue at his frenulum. Once satisfied, he envelops Jim’s tip with his mouth and slowly drags his tongue down the man’s shaft.

Jim places his left hand on Victor’s head as his mouth takes him all in. He throws his head back and moans softly. The feel of Victor’s warm wet mouth has him melting and shuddering with pleasure. He watches as his lover takes his own erection into his hand. Victor’s arm steadily pumping himself as his tongue plays all along Jim’s length. He continues to caress the smooth skin of Victor’s head as he utters.

“Oh god, you’re so good to me.”

Victor removes his hand from Jim’s shaft and reaches behind to grab his buttock to swallow him further. He bobs and moans as he takes Jim in, sucking harder as he pulls back. His fingers dig deeply into Jim’s ass as he works himself more urgently.

Jim trembles hard, losing himself to the moment. The feel of Victor’s mouth and throat around his erection too delicious to hold back from. The fantasy come true has his impending orgasm threatening to come in less than two minutes flat. He shakes his head wanting to hold off, but it’s futile. He starts bucking his hips to feel the back of Victor’s throat. The wiggling, warm, wet tongue is pure ecstasy wrapped around his hard cock. There is nothing to stop his quickly mounting orgasm.

Victor can tell Jim’s close. He abandons his efforts to pleasure himself in order to finish Jim off. Zsasz removes his hand from his cock and uses it to reach and hold Jim fast by his hip. He bobs and sucks harder, timing his breathing as Jim pulls out before shamelessly thrusting back into his mouth, chasing his pleasure.

The feel of Victor’s firm grasp on his hips and the assertive mouth, sucking and licking in earnest tips the scales. He can feel the pressure below reach its zenith and the explosion begins to erupt.

“Oh god, I’m _cumming!_ Oh, FU—CK!”

He starts bucking his hips faster into Victor’s mouth.

Victor moans when the warm rush of Jim’s release shoots into his mouth. He continues working Jim until his hips grind to a stop. He smiles with smug satisfaction knowing Jim’s rendered helpless by his mouth.

Jim shakes and quivers. He’s never had anyone take his load and keep sucking. It's an amazing experience and he’s sure that no one after Victor will ever compare. He grabs Zsasz’s chin and lifts it up.

“I want you on top of me as you cum.”

Jim lies down on the bed and beckons Victor to lay on top of him.

Victor immediately climbs atop the smaller man. He tents himself above Jim with his right forearm as he works himself with his left. As his pleasure mounts, Victor pumps faster into his hand. He casts Jim a hooded gaze with softened brow and slackened jaw.

Jim places kisses all along Victor’s neck. He bites down and sucks softly releasing the flesh as his teeth scrape across. He runs his left hand down his chest and abdominals, placing it on Victor’s stroking hand. He forces Victor to release himself as his hand takes its place.

“Allow me.”

His tongue comes out and licks Victor’s chin before he focuses his attention on the erection below. He looks up into Victor’s face, enjoying how unfocused and clouded his eyes get when consumed by lust and desire. He roughly whispers.

“I like you best this way.”

He gives Victor another lick.

Victor’s lost. His shallow breathing is now panting. The warmth and pressure quickly build and he finds rhythm getting away from him. He thrusts frenetically into Jim’s hand. Zsasz shudders as the swelter below grows hotter.

“Jim...”

Jim starts twisting his hand up and down the throbbing flesh but stops and gives Victor a look. He smiles and then commands.

“Scoot up. Bring that cock to my mouth.”

Despite Victor’s loss of control in his lower limbs, he clambers up to Jim’s face, almost forgetting his right arm.

Jim reaches up with his left hand and takes the large cock into a firm grasp. He inserts the head into his mouth, his tongue giving the tip special attention before he takes more in. He reaches for Victor’s ass and grasps his taut mound. He beckons him to thrust into his mouth with firm coaxing from his clenched hand.

Jim then brings his hand back around and lightly strokes his balls with his fingertips. He works the thick hot cock by sucking and slurping all along the length while Victor pumps his hips into him.

He winces when Victor’s thigh lightly rubs his right arm every so often but he doesn’t want him to stop. Jim is determined to repay Victor for watching over him last night and for the amazing blowjob.

Zsasz completely loses control. He clamps a hand onto the headboard, plants the other against the wall and begins pounding into Jim’s mouth. Victor looks down. The sight of Jim’s lips around his cock spurs him into a more frenzied pace. The building pressure is blinding. Zsasz’s breath catches in his throat as his hips stutter before the inevitable shudder and quake. Victor cums with a roar.

“ _OH, F-F-F-FFFFUUUUCK!!!_ ”

Jim swallows and chokes down Victor’s load as his left hand continues to stroke his balls. After taking the first few large squirts down his throat, he quickly releases Victor from his mouth. He’s sure he’s going to drown in his cum. He turns his head away as he coughs and gasps for air.

Zsasz suddenly realizes the position he has Jim in. He immediately walks back on his knees so that he’s straddling the man further down his body, still breathing heavily and tempted to collapse on top of him. He smiles as he shakes his head and slows his breathing.

“Well, _that_ was _unexpected_.”

Jim takes a moment to catch his breath and expel lingering sticky bits at the back of his throat. His eyes are tearing up heavily as his coughing subsides. He brings up his hand to wipe his eyes and face off.

“I wanted to return the favor.”

He gives Victor a shy smile before bringing his left arm over his face to hide his blushing cheeks and still watering eyes.

Victor chuckles incredulously before stretching a wide grin. He arches a brow and gives Jim an impressed nod.

“I have to say, Jim. You continue to surprise me. Sure you’ve never done that before?”

Victor kisses Jim and smiles down at the beautiful mess below him.

Jim smiles at Victor and shakes his head.

“Well, I know what I like. I figured it wouldn’t be too far off applying it to you.”

Jim brings up his left hand and caresses Victor’s face.

“Can we go get waffles now?”

Victor puffs out a quiet laugh and shakes his head, his grin impossibly large.

“Absolutely.”

Zsasz dismounts Jim and stands, extending a hand to Jim to help him up. Victor remembers Jim’s unwillingness to talk to him at the deli and his concern about them being seen together outside the club.

“You _really_ wanna go out together, or you want me to pick up something and bring it back?”

Jim gives Victor a raised eyebrow and a smile as he heads to his closet.

“There’s a waffle house not far. I’ve never seen anyone from work go there. In fact, I’m sure I’m the only one living on this side of town that works at the GCPD. I don’t think we have anything to fear.”

Jim pulls out jeans, a black t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers. He dresses quickly and grabs socks and shoes along with his leather jacket. He sits on the bed to put his socks on.

“Are you concerned someone you know will see us?”

“I _do_ know lots of people all over the city, but…” (shrugging) “...if you got the badge and you’re not worried, then why should I be?”

Victor picks up his clothes and begins dressing.

“...even if I _am_ doing the walk of shame.”

He winks.

Jim laughs as he finishes putting on his socks and shoes. He heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. He shouts from the bathroom over the running water.

“You could wear something of mine but you’re taller than me. Might not fit.”

Victor shouts back.

“You mean like your dress blues or somethin’?”

Jim shuts off the water as he exclaims with toothpaste in his mouth.

“That’s hot and about to be a fetish.”

“Duly noted. Hey, uh, any chance you gotta spare toothbrush in there?”

Jim digs through his medicine cabinet and stands at the bathroom doorway, shaking the unopened brush at Victor.

“Get the scent of dick out of your mouth.”

Jim grins and goes back to spit out the toothpaste.

Victor cheekily quips.

“ _Cop_ dick, no less.”

Jim quickly runs a comb through his hair and adds a bit of pomade to keep it all in place. He makes room at the sink for Victor as he finishes getting himself presentable.

Zsasz takes the toothbrush, opens the package, squirts toothpaste on it and begins brushing. Afterwards, he washes his hands, face and head before drying and stepping out of the bathroom.

“Okie dokie. Lead the way.”

Jim searches his dresser for his phone and wallet, but realizes they are in the living room. That’s when he hears the doorbell ring.

Then a loud knock.

Then the loud bellow of Harvey.

“Jimbo! Wakey Wakey! Eggs and bacon!”

Jim freezes and turns to Victor.

_What the fuck! The one time I need Harvey to be drunk and hungover he shows up at my apartment at eight in the morning!_

Victor smiles before leaning into Jim and nuzzling his ear.

“Good thing ya washed up, huh?”

Jim gives Victor a crazy look and holds up a finger.

“Stay here.”

Jim runs towards the front door when he notices Harvey trying to open it. The door is locked, thankfully. He doesn’t remember locking it but figured Zsasz might have done that last night.

“Hold up! I’m coming!”

He cracks the door open and smiles at Harvey who is giving him an expectant look.

“Dude, let me in! I have breakfast and hot coffee.”

Jim smiles nervously and whispers.

“Harvey, I’m very grateful for breakfast but I have company.”

Harvey’s face lights up and he beams at Jim.

“Oh yeah? Is it ‘ _Foxglove_ ’ company? _You dog!_ ”

Jim laughs and quickly agrees.

“Yes, the same. I will call you later if you don’t mind…”

Jim quickly starts closing the door, fearing Zsasz will saunter out into the living room just to see Harvey’s reaction.

Harvey slams his free hand on the closing door.

“Jimbo! I brought breakfast! Can I at least meet her?”

Jim’s face burns red hot as Harvey continuously pushes on the door. He quickly retorts while battling for dominance.

“No! She’s naked and showering.”

_I swear this man has gorilla strength!_

Harvey laughs; his free hand still pushing undeterred. He quips back smugly.

“Well, I hope she’s naked in the shower or her clothes are gonna be _soaked._ ”

Jim stops trying to close the door when he realizes he sounds like a moron. He purses his lips together then reaches a hand out and snatches the bags of food from Bullock. He gives Harvey a final apology.

“I’m truly sorry! But you should have called. I will call you later-okay- _bye!_ ”

Jim slams the door and locks it.

Harvey shouts.

“What about your coffee?”

“Keep it!”

He looks out a window and sees his captain make his way back to his car. He feels the sudden caress of a hand on his shoulder startling him into the air like a nervous cat.

“ _Naked and showering_ , huh? Didn’t see her in there. I looked, too. And _‘Foxglove’_ ? What’s _that_ about?”

Victor takes an excited glance down at the unexpected breakfast food.

“You wanna eat what’s in the bag, or you still want waffles?”

Jim gives Victor a narrowed glance.    

“Yeah, that reminds me —you left your gloves in my car. I left the invitation in there as well and Harvey found the card. I had to agree to whatever perverted story he concocted in his head. I’m just lucky he isn't too observant because he was playing with your gloves.”

Victor offers an apologetic look. He nods sheepishly as he rubs the back of his head.

“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Zsasz squints and scratches his head.

“Guess I shouldn’t be leaving incriminating evidence around, huh? In my defense, I was a little… (raising a brow and smiling) _‘distracted’_.”

Jim relaxes and smiles at the adorably apologetic man. He wraps his arm around Victor’s neck and gives him a soft kiss.

“Let’s go get breakfast. You will have to drive though.”

Victor strides to the coffee table and grabs Jim’s meds. He shakes the bottles and nods Jim to the door.

“Lead the way.”

Jim exits his apartment first, grateful for the fact that Zsasz can’t see his face. This was a close call, nearly getting caught together. He clenches his jaw tight and knows that more close calls are inevitable, especially when Harvey (and _now_ Zsasz) has a habit of dropping by his apartment unannounced.

He’s giving firm consideration to leaving town. He thinks about visiting his mother; it’s been awhile since he’s been home. He decides that after Victor leaves his side, he will give her a call and make his way out of town. He needs time away from Zsasz as much as it pains him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Jim. Despite the lack of sleep and pesky feelings you subjected me to in the previous chapter, you definitely know how to turn my frown upside down! :D 
> 
> May I always be fortunate enough to have morning wood in your presence!
> 
> Honestly though, y’all! Ugh! Not only was my morning blowy courtesy of Detective Jim Gordon aMAZing, cain’t NOBODY dish up the Gordlock goodness like filthycasual, am I right?! DELISH! 
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> __________________________
> 
>  
> 
> I mean...Zsasz dick is DELICIOUS! Can you blame me??
> 
> Finally round two of some sexual relief with these guys. I know, I know that isn't giving you the whole kit and caboodle. BUT—Stick around sick puppies, the sexy main course will be headed your way soon. 
> 
> Also I have a date with Victor Zsasz at the Foxglove. Think I could forget about that?
> 
> ~FC ;) 
> 
>  


	11. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim finds his growing attachment to Victor unsettling and takes time away. Victor isn’t about to let the detective get over him so easily and makes a call.
> 
> Harvey has a heart to heart with Jim over some concerns.

 

—>z<—

After Victor’s night with Jim, Penguin keeps him and his team surprisingly busy. There is no question that Oswald Cobblepot is a ruthless and highly-motivated man, but the dual attack and Jim’s threat only galvanize him more. His commitment to opening his club and clinching Gotham’s underworld is unwavering.

Not only does he apply pressure to his competitors, but he also devises an elaborate and ambitious plan to regulate and tax crime in Gotham —even seeking out and acquiring Don Falcone’s most trusted financier, Arthur Penn, to assist with the undertaking. Victor first met Penn working for the Don. Although Zsasz finds him a little nervous, he respects the man’s courtesy, discretion and professionalism.

In the meantime, Penguin instructs Victor and his team to make his presence known outside the central part of Gotham —largely on the eastern and southern sides. The kingpin wants to ensure the areas that dared to rise against him know _he_ is Gotham’s undisputed sovereign.

Because word spreads quickly of how Oswald and his crew successfully thwarted both coordinated attacks and crushed their challengers, Zsasz and his Girls don’t have to apply as much pressure as _Victor_ would like. Still, it gives him an opportunity for some fun —largely cracking a few heads, breaking some bones, cutting up a few people and snipping off some digits.

Victor still thinks about Jim no matter how busy Penguin keeps him. He occasionally checks for missed texts from him and furrows a brow when he finds none. He even cruises by Jim’s apartment a few times with the surgical grade gauze and tape he said he’d bring, but his sedan is never around. After several days, Victor grudgingly reaches the conclusion if he wants to talk to Jim, he’s simply going to have to break down and call the man.

 

—>j<—

By the time Monday comes around, Jim has better mobility with his right arm. He’s been back home for nine days now.

Getting the extra time off was surprisingly easy. Harvey seemed all too accommodating for a last minute request. However, Harvey’s remark to the extra time off was mildly cryptic.

“Yeah, you need the time away from here. Maybe you’ll come back renewed and back to your _old_ _self_.”

Jim had wanted to ask what he meant by that but decided to not press his luck, especially being given another week on top of his convalescent leave.

He called his mother after his breakfast with Zsasz. He told her about the shootout and his minor injury. His mother fretted and insisted he come home that very day.

He hoped the short separation from Zsasz would spur the assassin into forgetting about him and that he would press on with whatever normally filled his days before he walked into his life.

—

Jim is sure Victor has moved on; there are no missed texts or calls from the assassin waiting on his phone.

Even though he knows it's for the best that they both forget about each other, Jim can’t help but feel heartbroken over it. His mind keeps replaying the last time they were together at the waffle house. Victor feeding him in between bites of his own food. Chasing the forkfuls with his lips, unabashed and carefree.

It was in that small moment in time it seemed to Jim that they could almost pass as a happy couple. But he knows he’s chasing an illusion of something they can never be. The pain of the realization serves to harden his resolve at maintaining silence with Victor.

Jim holds firm in his belief that memories of Victor will soon fade, but everyday he struggles. He keeps busy helping his mother with minor home repairs and her long list of chores.

He’s deep into cleaning the gutters while his mother rakes leaves. His mother halts from her chores, looks up and hollers.

“I’m going to get us some tea, sweetie.”

Jim wipes the sweat from his forehead and nods.

“That sounds fantastic; thanks mom.”

Jim’s mother, Irene, dispenses tea from the pitcher into two glasses filled with ice. She pauses when she hears ringing coming from upstairs. She quickly dries her hands on a kitchen towel and briskly makes her way up the steps. The ringing is coming from Jim’s room. She enters and picks up the phone. The caller ID flashes: _“Abusive Boyfriend.”_

She quirks an eyebrow and smirks. She flips open the phone and sweetly greets the caller.

“Hello, Abusive Boyfriend. That’s an interesting nickname my son gave you on his contact list.”

“ _Oh_. You must be _Mrs_. Gordon. I’m afraid _I’m_ responsible for that. I’m Victor by the way.”

Irene chuckles and starts heading out of the room.

“Hello, Victor. Don’t mind me. Just poking fun. Are you an officer at the GCPD as well?”

“No, ma’am. I do personal and professional security.”

“Oh how fascinating. I suppose my son’s and your paths crossed at some point professionally? James is always so busy at work, I worry he has no life.”

“Actually, that _is_ how we met and yeah... Jim _does_ takes his job _very_ _seriously_. Being a detective in Gotham probably doesn’t allow him a lotta downtime.”

Irene makes her way down the stairs but pauses before making her way to the front door.

“That it doesn’t. His head’s in his work, just like his father's used to be. So are you two close?

“We _used_ to just know each other _professionally_ but… we’ve gotten to know each other _a lot better_ the past few weeks.”

Irene opens the front door and pauses on the porch.

“Well, I’m glad James has someone he can call a friend.”

She walks off the porch and adds.

“One moment, let me fetch him off the ladder…”

“The _ladder?_ I didn’t know Jim was so handy.”

Irene busts out laughing. Jim looks down at her from his task and smiles.

“Oh, he’s quite the handyman. One sec…”

Irene waves Jim down and says to him.

“James, you have a call. It’s Victor. I’m sorry I answered your phone. I didn’t want you to miss a call in case it was important.”

Jim almost falls off the ladder when she says ‘Victor’. A myriad of emotions bombard him all at once as he quickly descends the rungs.

Irene addresses Victor as she turns away from her son.

“Well I hope you’ll one day come visit with James. I would love to meet you.”

She looks towards Jim, surprised that he made it off the ladder so quickly. She raises an eyebrow at his bright-red sweaty face.

“Oh honey, take your call inside and get some tea. You are very _red._ Victor, it was very nice talking to you. I hope to meet you one day.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Jim’s lucky to still have you. I no longer have my parents and I'd be _honored_ to meet you, Mrs. Gordon.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart! Oh —I’m sorry to hear you lost your parents. Bless your heart, it must be _rough_ to have them gone from your life. I truly hope to meet you Victor. Okay, here’s James, goodbye sweetie.”

Jim takes the phone from his mother and smiles painfully. She pats his shoulder and says.

“Your friend Victor is a sweet man. I’ll want him to come next month when we have the get-together with friends and family. I insist, James.”

She makes her way back into the house for her tea.

Jim nods but isn’t happy with the idea. He brings the phone to his ear as he walks back in the house and runs up the stairs.

His heart is beating hard; he addresses Victor.

“Zsasz.”

“Hi, Jim. Your mom seems really nice.”

“What exactly did you say to her?”

“Oh, not much. Just that I knew you professionally, but lately we’ve gotten to know each other better. That’s all.”

Jim opens the door to his room and slams it closed. He lets out a huff and runs a hand through his hair. He’s a bit messed up that Zsasz called and that his mother talked to him. Though he wants to be angry, Victor isn’t at fault.

His heart begins aching for Victor. Whatever progress he was making in getting over him is now undone by one phone call. If anything, it makes the conflict within himself worse. A deep self-loathing settles at the core of him over how much he really misses him.

He takes a deep breath, wanting to squash the swell of emotions threatening to crack his voice. He flatly asks.

“Okay. Why are you calling?”

“Just checkin’ in. I haven’t seen you around. Oh, and I had no idea you were so _handy_. Wait. Actually, I _did_.”

Victor emits a low, throaty chuckle.    

Jim feels his face flush with heat as he smiles. He can’t deny the effect that Victor has on him. He inhales a slow deep breath and replies suggestively.

“Well, I _can_ be.”

Victor shifts in his chair and sighs wistfully.

“ _Yes_. _you_. _can_. I can _definitely_ attest to _that_.”   

Jim lays down on his bed and smiles. He knows deep down he wanted to hear from Victor and was hoping he would call.

_God, I’ve missed how sexy he sounds._

“I knew you only wanted me around for my _handiness.”_

Victor takes a deep breath.

”Oh, I wouldn’t say _that_ …” (then growling) “I _do_ like that _mouth_ of yours, too.”

“I’m very fond of yours as well. The way your tongue glides all over me —how _deep_ you took me in. I think I’ve touched myself to that a few times since I’ve come back home.”

Zsasz's purr is low and throaty as he shifts in his chair.

“Yeah? _Tell_ me.”

Jim shifts on his bed. He can feel his cock press hard against his jeans. He folds his left arm under his head and props up his right leg on the mattress.

“It’s always when I take a hot shower. That’s when I think of you. I remember how fucking hot and wet your mouth felt wrapped around me. I don’t think I’ve ever been harder in my life. Those thick lips of yours —fuck they are the _sweetest_ lips in all the world.”

Victor takes a deep breath and hisses out, cradling his phone in his shoulder to free his hands. He reaches to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, loudly enough for Jim to hear over the phone. He quietly moans.

“I can still _taste_ you, Jim.”

Jim smiles when he hears Victor unfasten his pants. He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans. He then slowly lowers his zipper and bites his lower lip. In his mind, Victor’s in the room with him. He breathes out heavily and whispers.

“And I can still _taste_ you. Tell me, what would you do to me if you could have your way _completely?”_

“Oh, Jim...” (sighing wistfully)... “ _So_ many choices… I’d definitely slice those buttons off your shirt —maybe even cut off your pants…  but I would _definitely_ tie you up.”

Jim palms his growing erection over his boxers. When he hears that Victor would tie him up he groans and grabs himself firmly. He lets out a throaty and breathy reply.

“Is that so? You want to be in control of me, do you? You want me _helpless?_ ”

Victor purrs.

“ _Well…_ I’ve never been in _complete_ _control_ of you Jim, so I’d _have_ to say _yes_.”

Victor moans and his breathing grows heavier.

“The thought of you _restrained_ ... all splayed out beneath me… your legs spread wide... _rock_ hard _and_ helpless? _Mmm…_.”

Jim gives a small chuckle.

“Considering you’ve never had the upper hand on me, I’m sure you would love that. What would you do to me? When you have me bound, powerless and at your mercy.”

Jim slips his hand down his boxers and gives himself a few hard rubs. His hips softly bucking into his hand. He lets out a soft gasp.

Victor sucks in a deep breath through teeth and hisses out before replying with a throatier tone and more measured cadence.

“I’d drag one hand slowly all over you until you start to twitch. When you do, I’d put my mouth there…

Drag my _tongue_ across it…

My _teeth…_ ”

Victor softly moans.

“My… _blade..._ ”

Jim lets out a long soft moan hearing how excitedly Victor describes his fantasy. He grasps his hard cock in his hand and breathes out.

“Your blade? Mmm.”

Jim strokes himself slowly and moans in an urgent breathless voice.

“Do you want to _cut_ me? Do you want to see me _bleed_ —Victor?”

Victor hisses.

“ _Oh, yesss…_ I’d _love_ to carve up that flesh of yours, Jim…. Mark you up… A slice for every time I make you cum.”

“Mmmm, does it include all the times I’ve cum to you when I’m alone?”

Jim starts stroking himself faster. The thought of Victor bringing pain upon him is a kink he had no idea would set him off.

“ _Every_.

_Last._

_One_.

So _tell_ me, Jim. When _else_ have I made you cum?”

Jim laughs and exhales a long slow breath.

“Mmmm, well. The night I saw you at the fight club; the morning after I gratified myself to you in the shower. Then at least eight —ten more times since then? How does it make you feel knowing I can’t go very long without thinking of you naked and on your knees?”

“Like I need to have you in my mouth again. I’d hate for you to forget about me, Jim.”

“No way in hell can I forget the way you _touch_ me... the way you _sound_... the way you _taste_. And _god_... the way you _smell._ I find myself thinking of your body half the damn time I’m awake. The way you feel under me —how _big_ and _hard_ you get. I can’t stop _thinking_ of you. Tell me, what else would you do to me when you’ve had your fill of slicing me up?”

Victor breathes heavily into the phone and tosses himself more urgently, occasionally stammering.

“I’d lick and bite around your hips and between your legs, just _barely_ grazing your cock —until you’re _begging_ me to put my mouth on you. I’d _lick_ and _suck_ you just enough to make you crazy and stop —just so I can hear you beg for more.”

Zsasz tosses himself harder and faster.

“I’d slide a finger inside you... then another… curl them up… Find that place _deep inside_ you —the one you don’t know about yet. Show you how you can cum _that_ way… Make you _mine_ with just my fingers…”

Jim arches his back as he strokes himself with each throaty sentence Victor breathes out. He can feel his body ache to feel him on top doing all the things he’s confessing to on the phone. Jim starts pumping himself faster.

“Oh —God! I want to feel you. I want to let you have your way with me. I bet you could make me cum in _so_ _many_ different ways.”

He lets out a few deep moans, his grip on his phone slacking. His hand below working faster while his mind’s deep in the fantasy Victor’s describing.

“ _Oh_ , _Jim…_ I’d rub that place inside you… Drive you _crazy_... Have you bucking onto my fingers so you can _feel_ it more —so I can _fill_ you more… Make you _beg_ me to _fuck_ you…

“I’d push my dick inside you… (stammering and softly moaning)… You’d be so _hot..._ and _tight…_ (breathing more heavily)... I can already feel you clenching around my dick as I sink inside you.”

Victor sucks in a breath between his teeth.

“I’d _choke_ _you_  with one hand and _jack_ _you off_ with the other while I (hissing) _fuck_ _you_ … I’m gonna _ruin you,_  Jim. I’m gonna _pound_ into you until you’re _screaming_ my name. You won’t want _anyone_ else by the time _I’m_ done with you.”

Jim can feel his impending orgasm coming fast. He can barely contain himself.

“Uhh — _Victor_ , I want to feel you _fuck_ me. I need to feel you _fucking_ me.”

Jim lets out a huge gasp and continues.

“I want you to _make me yours_ ….”

He drops the phone from his ear and covers his mouth as he explodes into his hand. He thrusts himself empty as he bucks his hips in a deep slow grind. He takes a second to catch his breath then clumsily grabs for the phone by his head. He gasps out.

“Fuck.”

“Fuck? Jim Gordon! You kiss your sweet mother with that mouth?”

Jim laughs and quips back.

“Well, I've sucked you off and still manage to give my sweet mother loving kisses on her cheek every morning. So yes…”

Victor chuckles.

“So, uhh… when ya gonna be back in town?”

Jim wipes his hand on his boxers and replies.

“I’ll be back Friday. I have work that day plus some of my coworkers want to take me out that night.”

Jim shakes his head. He can already hear the horrid birthday singing and drunk karaoke till all hours of the night.

“Any chance you uhh... still wanna make good on that invitation?”

“Just tell me when.”

“Hmm… Sounds like you’re _‘tied up_ ’ Friday. How ‘bout Saturday? Say _tenish?_ ”

“Okay. I need to finish helping my mother get her house fixed up before I leave. I’m glad you called.”

Victor lecherously chuckles.

“Me too. Later.”

 

_______________________

 

Friday and Jim is at work at five in the morning. He walks into Harvey’s office. The man gives Jim a peculiar look but quickly replaces it with a stiff smile.

“Jimbo! How you feelin' buddy? How’s your mom?”

“She’s doing well and still can cook like no one’s business. I may need to hit the gym after work, she fattened me up some.

Harvey laughs and eyes him up and down.

“Lucky! So…your birthday —yeah?”

Harvey beams him a big grin. Jim sighs and smiles.

“What do you have planned?”

Jim sits on the chair across from him.

“Just cake, gifts, singin' and copious amounts of alcohol. At least twenty people said they'll come. Benardo is goin' to close the bar just for us. So, gird your loins pal. It’s happenin'!”

Jim raises his hands in acquiescence.

“Okay, I will do my best to act like a normal person.”

Harvey claps his hand together once and smiles.

“Great!”

“How have things been since that attack on Oswald’s club?”

Harvey stands and stretches.

“Quiet, my man. Word is out; Oswald practically has all the east side in his control now. I think we did him a favor to tell you the truth.”

Jim glances up at Harvey but averts his gaze and stares at his lap. He had hoped that Oswald would get the warring east and south side Gotham gangs in his control. Though he hates Oswald and all that he stands for, he can’t deny that he had a way of making people fall in line.

“Well at least innocent people aren’t getting hurt. Right?”

Harvey gives him another odd look but nods. He quickly adds.

“Yeah, sure. Well, at the very least we can focus on other things and not worry 'bout gang wars.”

 

___

 

Eight in the evening comes around and Jim and Harvey meet up with coworkers at their favorite bar. Benardo closed down the establishment for the party. Most of the day shift police force are in attendance.

After the obligatory birthday song and present giving, everyone breaks off to drink and sing at the karaoke machine. Harvey and Jim sit at a booth in the back drinking and just sticking to each other.

“So how old are you, James?”

Jim holds up three fingers on one hand and two on the other.

Harvey tries to focus but the whiskey and shots of Patron have him in their grasp.

“You are...five! You are one _big_ five year old!”

Harvey busts out laughing, he pulls Jim closer and wraps his left arm over his shoulder.

Jim tucks himself into Harvey’s arm and snuggles against the large man’s body. He is feeling a bit of a buzz but nothing over the top. He doesn’t want a hangover especially when he has a date to keep with Zsasz tomorrow night.

Harvey glances down at him and thinks hard for a bit. He then nods with resolve and says.

“Say, Jim there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you about.”

Jim looks out to the crowd of coworkers and family members as he asks.

“Yeah? What about?”

Jim rests his head on Harvey’s shoulder then turns his head to gaze up at the bearded man. The captain looks down at him, an uneasy smile stretching the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s step outside. I need the cold air to clear my head and I don't want anyone listenin’ in.”

Jim reluctantly peels himself off of Harvey and gestures to the back door.

“After you.”

Harvey quickly makes for the exit and holds the door open for Jim. Once Jim is through, he places a rock at the jam to prop it open.

“Okay. I’m just gonna say this. Jim, I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately. Not just me, Fox has noticed too. You’ve been workin’ long hours and to be honest…”

Harvey sighs and runs a hand down his beard. He puts his hands on his hips and continues.

“I followed you one night. I was worried. You were in the Narrows. I saw you start a bar fight. Hell, you laid out five guys in that fight like it was _nothin’_.”

Jim starts feeling the onset of panic. He’s unable to react or respond to what Harvey just said. He’s hoping that his friend hasn’t been keeping _too close_ a watch on him. He waits for the fall of the hammer, where Harvey says he knows about Zsasz.

Harvey approaches closer to Jim, placing one hand on his shoulder. He looks him in the eyes and adds with a serious expression.

“Jim, Fox told me you had your blood checked for the Tetch Virus twice after your cure. Buddy, is there somethin’ going on? This is me, your best bud askin’, not Captain Bullock.”

Jim keeps his gaze locked with Harvey’s. He then proceeds to lie.

“Harvey, I’m fine. I was having bad dreams... bad thoughts. I’m fine now. It was rough going after things went bad with Lee and Carmine, but the dust is settled and I’m okay.”

_Eye contact and lying. Great. I’m now a sociopath. Maybe I’ve always been..._

Harvey nods and brings Jim in for a large warm bear hug. 

“Well, I was worried about ch’ya. I noticed somethin’ going on with you. So, you really okay?"

Jim nods his head and swallows hard. He offers a half-hearted grin and blurts out.

“Really, I’m fine now, Harvey.”

Jim brings his hands up, placing both hands on Harvey’s face. He leans in and kisses his cheek. Harvey smiles sadly at Jim and says.

“I’m particularly fond of you. I worry. Are you sure there's _nothin'_ else you are hidin' and want to talk about?”

Jim looks away for a second but quickly returns his eyes to Harvey's pained expression. The amount of guilt and shame bearing down on him almost too much to bear. He shakes his head.

Harvey sighs and casts his gaze to the ground. He shuffles on his feet as he puffs out a heavy breath. His brow furrowing as he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his head.

Jim can tell that he wants to say something else.

“What is it, Harvey? Tell me.”

The older man’s expression of concern doesn’t ease up. Harvey hesitates over voicing his thoughts. He mutters painfully.

“Nothin’. If you’re good then I’m good.”

Jim nods. He can feel his throat constrict; he wants to confess everything to Harvey, but he can't do it.

“You’re a good friend.”

Harvey gruffs.

“Damn right. Well, let’s head back in.”

Jim offers a half-hearted smile and follows Harvey back inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun for me. It didn’t even occur to me (until FC pointed it out) that Victor talks more in this one chapter than he does in all the other chapters combined! 
> 
> In my defense, Jim, if you were actually *around* I’d just *show* you —which I’d prefer because I’m not really a talker. I’m more of a *do*er. 
> 
> Ugh. And FC’s effin’ perfect Gordlockiness?! It also holds true when it comes to the heartbreaky stuff. You guys! Too many feelings! HOLD ME, FC!
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ———
> 
> *Holds Owl and pats her back*
> 
> There. There.
> 
> Ok if there seems like there is some stuff that I'm not diving into with Harvey. I did that on purpose. A Harvey only POV fic is in the works that will be a companion piece to this. It will have his observations and revelations on Jim. Also maybe some personality and loyalty shift.
> 
> Also yes, these are the most words Victor has ever said to my Jim. The second other chatty moment was on the roof while he was cornering my (clearly agitated and murderous) Jim and being all YOLO (cringe) about it. lol =)
> 
> Jim is one step from (as Jess and I put it)—looking for a tuxedo and—Hava Nagila. 
> 
> ~FC


	12. The Foxglove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim prepares for date night with Victor at the exclusive sex den. 
> 
> Zsasz has his own agenda for the evening’s events.

—>z<—

It’s about a quarter to ten when Zsasz walks up to the Foxglove. He hears the intro to [ Peaches’ “Dick In the Air”](https://youtu.be/Yh_57nQFSEg) as he enters the foyer.

_“Is that too much to ask?_

_Dick in the air, let me see you put your_  
_Put your dick in the air_ _  
__Dick, dick, dick…_ ”

He strides up to Solange, the evening’s hostess. The short, thick and curvaceous sepia-toned stunner dons a hot pink, high-collared latex dress. Her lipstick and peep toe platforms both match her attire, and her plunging neckline showcases her ample pulchritude.

He sidles up next to and snakes his hand behind her, resting it on the small of her back. Zsasz nuzzles her neck and purrs in her ear.

“Solange, you look absolutely _scrumptious_ tonight.”

She places her hand up to Victor’s chest and pushes him away —but not _too_ far. Solange eyes him up and down, shaking her head and sucking her teeth.

“ _Aww_ _hell no_ , Victor Zsasz. You ain’t been here in _how long_ to see me and you try pullin’ that shit? That panty-droppin’ smile o’ yours may work on everyone else, but it ain’t on me.”

Victor shrugs and smiles with feigned innocence.

“Can’t fault a guy for tryin’.”

Solange tilts her head, rolls her eyes and clicks her nails.

“And what’s this I hear about _you_ coming by for an _invitation_? You courtin’ a client, or are you steppin’ out on me? Is there somebody Solange needs to know about?”

Victor shrugs, but offers no reply.

She arches a brow and nods knowingly before sucking her teeth.

“ _Oh_. _I see how it is now._  So _not_ a client, then?”

She shrewdly eyes the silent assassin.

“Mm-hmm… Well, _you_ takin’ up too much o’ my time _any_ damn way. A sistah try’na pay some bills over here, so ya bettah get to steppin’, honey.”

She winks up at Victor and smiles.

“Well, _go on_ then. Get that pretty little ass o’ yours in there.”

Victor pecks her cheek before she sends him off with a hard smack to the rear. Solange takes a moment to appreciate the view as he strides into the club. After he disappears into the crowd, she shakes her head and returns her attention to the entrance anticipating the next patron’s arrival, wondering if she’ll catch a glimpse of Zsasz’s “guest” tonight.

Victor passes a couple of women in rubber dolly hoods walking hand in hand to join a cluster of other rubberists in chaps, catsuits, corsets and uniforms. Most of the women wear platform shoes, or ankle, thigh-high strap buckle and lace-up boots. Some sport hoods with Russian or Danish gas masks, while others don full-enclosure suits. A few patrons are particularly enamored with a woman in her red, inflatable bodysuit.

In another area, a group of patrons circle around a sub in a leather harness, gauntlet, arm bands and cod jock lying face down on the floor, his arms and legs splayed wide by separators. His Domme slowly slinks around him with a braided black quirt that has four lashes. She painstakingly drags it around his body, then up a thigh and over a buttock. When the man’s thigh twitches with anticipation, she reprimands him.

“ _Perfectly_ _still_ , pet.”

On the periphery of one tableau, a woman lies face down with her forearms and leg secured behind her. Her Top gathers the excess rope from her bound legs and slowly cinches it up to thread through the loop hanging from the rope securing her arms. Once secure, her Top winds and wraps the excess rope back down towards her knees to complete her presentation. More elaborate rigging takes place in the main area featuring Shibari (Kinbaku) bondage.

The slow, rhythmic whistle and crack of a Dom caning his sub before a crowd can be heard through the din, occasionally drowned out by the sound of rapid fire thwacking of a Domina’s paddle against her sub’s stinging red ass. On the main performance stage, another Dominatrix dazzles an audience with her whip work.

Various guests, patrons, performers and lookers on mill around the club, weaving in and out of various tableaux. Some wear masks to obscure their faces, like the famous pastor whose face and megachurch are plastered on billboards around the city. Others do not. Among the evening’s guests are some of Gotham’s wealthiest and most powerful citizens. Scantily-clad men and women offer fluted glasses in and out of the crowd. When one of them recognizes Victor, she hurries off and returns with a glass of ginger ale for him.

After accepting the glass, Victor smiles and winks up at his two favorite drag queens. Divine Intervention flits around in her campy Sunday finery clutching her bible and pearls alongside the slinky and imposing saunter of Mensestopheles, outfitted in her red catsuit, horns and tail carrying her trident. The moment they spy Victor, they quickly make their way to him and lavish him with kisses. As he chats with them, he surreptitiously glances around the club in search of Jim, who should be arriving soon.

 —>j<—

Jim finds Saturday night swiftly upon him. He has a feeling this will be the night he and Zsasz may take things further. In his nervous curiosity, he researched how to prepare for anal sex and what to expect afterwards. Though he was squeamish at first, he was able to properly prepare with a thorough cleansing. He wanted to ensure it was going to be a pleasant experience for them both.

He also thought about getting himself primed to lessen the pain of his first experience, but changed his mind. He didn't want to take that away from Victor. He was sure Zsasz would want to be first at _“loosening”_ him up.

He went shopping earlier in the day. He didn’t have an outfit suitable for the Foxglove so he got himself something nice that would ensure he didn’t stand out too much.

He proceeds to brush his teeth, shave his face and trim his pubic hair near his genitals. He expertly primps his hair just right and finally finishes it all off with a dash of his favorite cologne.

He steps out of the bathroom in his towel and checks the time. It was nine-forty. He doesn’t want to show up on time. He makes his way to the kitchen and pours himself a small shot of Maker’s Mark. He swallows it down and looks out of his apartment window and down at his recent purchase in the parking lot.

Before arriving back to Gotham, he stopped at a dealership and bought himself a red Yamaha YZF-R1S Supersport motorcycle. A well-deserved birthday present to himself. The sedan would be for everyday travel, but he wanted something for when he goes out prowling the streets of Gotham.

At ten, Jim starts dressing. He dons black leather pants, a black silk button up, black Grimentin Oxford dress shoes and his black riding jacket with red stripes and embellishments that match his motorcycle. He grabs his helmet, wallet and phone then leaves.

He arrives at the establishment and checks the time; it’s ten thirty. He took the long way to the Foxglove to enjoy the feel of his new ride. He's sure Zsasz will forgive his tardiness for the small indulgence.

He digs in his jacket and takes out the invitation, then heads to the doors. The bouncers gesture him in and he makes his way to the hostess podium. A thick and voluptuous woman in a striking hot pink outfit welcomes him in. She extends her hand to take the invitation, her nails just as bright as her outfit and adorned in tiny crystals. She eyes him up and down salaciously.

“Who you here with honey?”

Jim smiles and replies.

“Victor Zsasz.”

She looks him up and down then smirks. She sucks her teeth as she places the invitation in a box. She mutters under her breath as she writes the invitation number in a ledger.

“You poor innocent thang. You’re so _damn fresh_. He’s going to break you into many, _damn,_ unrecognizable pieces when he’s done with you.”

Jim wasn’t sure he heard her right. He leans in and says.

“Excuse me?”

She looks Jim up and down and shakes her head. She looks over Jim’s shoulder and waves a staff member over.

“Yes, Mistress Solange?”

“Get this gorgeous man a drink on me. Make it extra stiff. Give him the Solange Special; he’s gonna need it.”

The lithe female in a bright red corset, thong and stiletto heels, bows and gestures Jim to follow her. Solange winks at Jim and waves him off.

“Good luck, baby!”

Jim nods at the hostess and follows the waitress in.

Solange laughs wholeheartedly and turns to help the next client.

Jim waits at the bar as the bartender fills the special order.

He looks towards the stage where a male and female duet are performing. The music is sultry and upbeat. The sign in front of the stage reads, _“Lovage”_ , Nathaniel Merriweather and Jennifer Charles.

_“Stroke that shiny coat_

_Stroking is the antidote_

_Stroke that, it’s a start_

_Only for the wild at heart_

_Stroke that shiny coat_

_Stroking is the antidote_

_Stroke that shiny coat_

_Stroking’s what it’s all about_

 

_I like to watch, if you don’t mind…_

_Every sphinx knows how to pass the time_

_Your little love nest suits me well_

_Let me show you how to cast a spell…”_

 

The waitress returns with his drink.

“Here you go, one Solange Special, extra stiff. It’s gin, carrot juice, mint, honey and lemon. Good for keeping up your energy levels.”

Jim takes the drink and thanks the waitress. He then looks around the establishment. There are many areas with activities happening all at once. He scans the crowds to see if maybe Victor’s already in the building. He takes the drink and downs it in a few swallows. He scrunches his face and looks at the glass.

“Holy crap.”

He sets the glass down on the bar and decides to walk around and peruse the den of delights.

There’s a wide range of sights to behold. At the first stop, he glances at a bunch of people in latex and masks. He smiles and walks on. He isn’t into dressing up or pretending to be something or someone else. He has enough of that in his life trying to maintain his perfect image at the GCPD.

He stops at a table to watch the singers for a bit. They’re performing improv with their song. The man is holding a bouquet of flowers as he points a gun at his duet partner. The woman is in a tight low neckline red dress; she has a cigarette in a gloved hand and the microphone in the other.

Jim glances around but still doesn't see Victor anywhere. He watches the clients and staff members carry on with various activities around him. Old (more than likely rich) men are being led around like they’re pets on leashes. His gaze then settles on a regal-looking woman being catered to by three half-naked men. One of the men takes her bare foot and begins to suck on every toe. The other two men bring her hands to their mouths to suck on each finger.

Jim scoffs and glances around to other people caught in the heady fog of their desires. The bad lighting and the crowds make it impossible for him to spot Zsasz, if he’s around.

He wanders to another section, a young man’s bound and getting flogged by a woman in a full body latex suit and stilettos. The bound man is standing, but doubled over because of the set-up he’s attached to. The leather strips make a sickening loud smack against the presented arched back.

Jim watches on as the man screams out with each hit. His eyes wander to his bindings. The man’s legs are kept apart with a metal bar and his ankles cuffed at each end. His hands are tied together and fastened at the bar between his legs. Jim slowly looks the naked twink up and down. The man’s skin is puckered with deep red welts from previous beatings. The woman then gently guides the lithe man down to the ground.

Jim tears his eyes from the spectacle momentarily and summons a leather-clad male waiter over.

“I’d like a beer, draft please. Something stout.”

“Yes, sir.”

The waiter gives Jim a wide grin and rushes to fill his order.

Jim watches on as the young man’s mistress straps a black velvet blindfold over the man’s eyes. She smiles at Jim and flashes her sharp metal claws at him. She proceeds to claw at the man’s thighs; a deep moan escapes her captive. Shallow gashes weep slowly with blood; the latexed woman purrs as expressions of pain and bliss manifest on the man’s face. She proceeds to place new cuts along his body.

The waiter returns with his beer. Jim pays him and walks on. Each alcove presents a new and never before seen fetish. Jim finds himself stopping at one particular display.

Two women are cutting each other and lapping at their cuts. They then take turns cutting the two men at their feet. Each of them taking their time to draw exquisite pain from their companions. The women smile at Jim and beckon him over.

He is tempted but he opts to sit next to them and watch intently. The two women donning goth, Catholic school uniforms flank him and sit on his lap.

“You have gorgeous skin.”

“You should come with us to a back room so we can give you special attention with our blades.”

The two men that were at the women’s feet sit up and watch wistfully, hoping for another participant.

“Maybe another time ladies. I’m just looking.”

The women giggle and take their men upstairs. Jim remains where he is seated and looks around for Victor once again. Another waiter comes by.

“Would you like another beer, gorgeous?”

Jim nods and the man rushes off. Jim relaxes and takes in the layout of the establishment. The club is sumptuously adorned with rich textures of fabrics, crystal lighting, deep mahogany woods and erotic details.

Upstairs, there are many rooms where exclusive and affluent patrons can carry on in private. Downstairs, on the main floor, are the sights and sounds to get customers in the mood. There’s also a small dance floor where a crowd of mostly naked people are dancing, more than likely experiencing euphoria from some mind-altering substance or another.

The waiter comes back with his drink and Jim pays him. He heads to a booth and relaxes.

“Jim?”

Jim sits up and stares wide-eyed at a young man dressed exactly like Oswald. He’s wearing a black suit with tails, coupled with a rich purple waistcoat, a white button up, a yellow satin tie and ruby cufflinks. His raven hair spiked and pieced together to frame his face. He even wore mascara to accentuate his large green eyes. Jim has to do a double take to make sure he isn’t indeed Oswald. Jim furrows his brow and blurts out.

“Wait _—Sean_?”

The young man smiles warmly and lays his walking cane over his shoulder.

“Detective Gordon, what are _you_ doing here?

“I was invited. Why are you _dressed_ like that?”

Sean makes his way next to Jim and lays the cane on the table.

“I’m here with a client. He’s passed out upstairs. So, I figured I’d come down and have some fun. Scope out other potential _filthy_ rich clients.”

Sean scoots in closer to Jim and studies his glass to discern what he’s drinking.

“That doesn’t explain why you are dressed like _that._ ”

Jim eyes him up and down, no longer giving a damn about their age difference.

“My client has a thing for ex-Mayor Cobblepot. Since, I _guess_ , I look like him, he makes me dress up. It pays well, so I don't mind. You’re drinking beer? Jim, that shit will make you bloated. Stop drinking this ASAP!”

Sean leans in and smiles.

“I take it you’re here with someone?”

Jim looks around and mentions.

“I’m waiting for him to show.”

“Oh, mind if I wait with you?”

Jim grins and leans back into the booth seat.

“Okay.”

Sean smiles seductively at him as he scoots closer. He places two fingers on Jim’s chest and draws them down towards his abdominals. Jim can feel the stir of an erection. It was uncanny how much he looks like Oswald, minus the sharp pointy nose, of course.

“Don’t disappear on me, Detective Gordon. I’ll be back, quick as a bunny.”

Jim stares as the boy rushes towards the bar. He then looks at his watch. It's already eleven-thirty. He never saw Victor. He brings out his phone and shoots him a quick text.

_“Where are you?_

_I’m here at the club.”_

He ensures the volume is set high and closes the phone. He sets it on the table and watches the people as they wander about the facilities.

_Why would he ask me to come tonight and not show? Perhaps Oswald has him busy with other things._

Jim lets out a big sigh; he can feel his mood souring. The night was not going the way he’d hoped.

_All this preparation for nothing. Well, fuck. I suppose our professions will always come first._

After five minutes, Sean returns with two drinks. He sets the drinks on the table and winks at Jim. He walks to the edge of the booth and unfastens a tie. A thick curtain unfurls. He takes the edge and draws it around the booth for privacy.

“I’ve always had a thing for you, Detective Jim Gordon.”

The boy slides beside Jim and wraps his arms around his shoulders.

Jim loses himself in the illusion by his side. He feels stood up by Victor. Two weeks of sexual frustration coalescing with his sour mood nudge him to dive into the young man by his side. He hesitates just for a moment.

_Victor and I aren’t in a committed relationship. Fuck, I doubt he even thinks I’m anything but a thrill ride for him._

_...I’m rationalizing. Fuck it. Just this once..._

Jim leans into the youth and snatches him into a firm embrace. He shoves his tongue into the boy’s mouth as he brings him in closer. Sean crawls onto his lap as he deepens the kiss.

Jim can feel his cock swell rapidly. He can only think of how much he’s always wanted to fuck Oswald senseless. Even though he’s sure the small kingpin would submit with the slightest coaxing, he’d never allow Oswald the satisfaction. Unlike Zsasz, Oswald _would_ use their attraction to his advantage. Then Jim would regrettably have to kill the small man, once and for all.

Sean’s a great substitute.

Jim bares his teeth and bites down on the boy’s neck. His hands quickly grab at Sean’s buttocks. His hips start rolling hard into the small man as he kneads the young firm ass in his hands.

“Oh Jim!”

Jim quickly unhands Sean and leans back into his seat, doing his best to catch his breath. He doesn’t want to take things any further than some heavy petting. He smiles at the pouting young man and digs into an inside jacket pocket. He grabs Sean’s hand and places all the cash he has on him into the boy’s grasp.

“I don't want sex, but I would like your company. Just chat and drinks? Maybe some kissing?”

Jim looks at his watch then adds.

“For the next hour?”

Sean smiles and tucks the money in his jacket.

“I will give you an hour and a half. Just because you’re a great kisser.”

Jim smiles and caresses his face.

“You can open the curtains. I was enjoying the parade of people.”

Sean hops off his lap, opens the curtains and hands Jim his drink as he sips at his own. He sets his drink down and wraps his arms around Jim’s neck.

“So where is this lucky man of yours at?”

“Well, I guess he isn’t showing.”

Sean pouts and pecks his cheek.

“His loss. You’re super hot and a kind-hearted man.”

Jim blinks at the compliments. He grins as he grabs the boy by an arm and leg, coaxing him back onto his lap. Sean straddles him, face-to-face. Jim inhales and sighs slowly as he rubs the boy’s thighs. Jim purrs as he wraps his arms around his waist.

“Come here; kiss me.”

After an hour of being liplocked with the boy and talking about small uninteresting topics, Jim takes his leave of the Foxglove. He looks at his phone one more time before leaving the club.

No text back.

He hops on his motorcycle and decides to ride around Gotham for a bit. He rides past Oswald’s hideout, but doesn’t slow down. He then rides into the middle of downtown and takes the loop that circles the city. He always did love Gotham during nightfall. He loves the way the dark streets cloak him in anonymity as he traverses every turn and twist. After an hour and a half of cruising downtown streets, he heads home.

He pulls up to the parking lot of his apartment. He checks his phone again, still no text. He dismounts his motorcycle and heads up to this apartment.

He enters and heads to his kitchen for a bottle of water. He throws his keys, wallet and phone on the kitchen island. He guzzles the water down and heads to his bedroom.

_It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen Victor. I’m so pent up —maybe I should go to The Narrows and release some of this energy?_

Jim stops in the hallway, he turns around to leave his apartment but stops himself.

_Fuck, no. I need to stop._

He opens the door to his bedroom.

 

—>z<—

Victor wanders the Foxglove. During previous visits, he enjoyed leisurely sauntering around, never once thinking of the time as he took in the decadent panorama of pleasure and pain. _Tonight_ however, Zsasz restlessly anticipates Jim’s arrival.

Zsasz is staggered when Jim walks into the club. It's as if Jim made himself up perfectly for him to undo, piece by piece. Victor’s overcome with the urge to drag him into one of the private rooms, but he takes a deep breath and forces himself to calm his deep, swelling ache. He slowly rubs down his mouth and resolves to hang back and watch Jim as he originally planned.

He follows the man around the club, watching where his eyes fall and noting where he lingers. Zsasz stretches a self-satisfied smile when he confirms his hunches about Jim’s proclivities are correct. Eventually, Jim begins talking with a young man bearing an uncanny resemblance to The Boss. It takes Victor a moment to realize it’s the same pro Jim questioned outside that club a few weeks back in the Joy Division t-shirt.

The two are undeniably hot together. Zsasz tilts his head with and stretches a wide grin as he watches, perfectly content to sit back and enjoy the way Jim talks to and stares at the young man.

However, the moment the pro closes the curtains and Victor can no longer see what’s happening between the two men, he’s overcome with fervid jealousy. He storms up to the booth, reaching to rip back the curtains and throttle Unknown Pleasures when he hears Jim’s muffled voice from behind the heavy curtains.

“I don't want sex but I would like your company. Just chat and drinks? Maybe some kissing?”

Victor clenches his jaw, quickly withdraws his hand and disappears back into the crowd. He watches on as the disheveled pro opens the curtains and returns to straddle and kiss Jim for the next hour.

Zsasz later follows Jim out the club and watches him climb onto his new Supersport, nodding in approval. He follows him around for awhile and determines Jim’s probably just enjoying his new ride before he heads for the man’s apartment. He chuckles when he finds it just as easy to break into as it was the first time.

He strides in with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Zsasz has been looking forward to getting him all to himself again, especially after their last phone call. However, watching him with that pro only makes Victor crave Jim more. Sure, the kid is easy on the eyes, but _really_ now:

_What could a pretty little thing like that possibly do for Jim beside amuse him?_

Under different circumstances, he’d bring Unknown Pleasures along for the evening’s festivities, so Jim could live out whatever fantasies he clearly had about the Boss —but _not tonight_. There was _no_ _way_ he's about share Jim with _anyone_. Tonight, Jim is _his_. _Maybe some other time._

He heads for Jim’s bedroom and tosses his bag on the bed. He wanted to be prepared for anything, so he brought an array of items: gags, butt plugs and various cock rings. (He felt confident about Jim’s girth having had him in his hand and mouth.) Zsasz pulls out restraints, zip ties and pre-cut lengths of hemp rope and grins when his imagines using the same handcuffs Jim uses on his perps.

Earlier in the day, Victor sharpened and sterilized the blades he brought, including the combat knife and karambit that he always carries. Zsasz even sterilized his favorite boxcutter and replaced the blade. He also brought his smallest leather knife roll with a few more blades: his drop point for greater control, a clip point in case Jim wanted to play harder, and a classic straight razor. Zsasz pulls down the corners of his mouth and tilts his head.

_Who knows? Maybe Jim will let me shave him._

He affixes restraints on Jim’s bed frame and prepares the pre-cut lengths of rope at the head and foot of the bed. His duffel bag also contains a few medical supplies, including the surgical grade gauze and tape he promised Jim. Victor knows he probably _over_ prepared, but he wants to be ready for _anything._  Jim had a well-established history of surprising him over the years —even more so in recent weeks. Who knew what might happen?

He reaches past the extra restraints for a separator having noticed Jim’s interest in the bound sub earlier, but he keeps it in his duffel. He could always pull it out later. He slides the bag underneath Jim’s bed before plopping himself onto it and stretching across it. Victor folds his hands behind his neck, crosses his legs at the ankles and waits.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had a few rewrites on my end. Some dubious plot that I ended up scrapping because I needed to stop being an instigating little shit. (I can't help it.)
> 
> To say I was excited for this chapter in particular would be the understatement of the year. Or to be more precise I am excited for the following chapter to the Foxglove because of sexy reasons. Owl and I love taking our time when we finally get each other in our clutches. *raises eyebrow and smirks*
> 
> Jim's excitement was more for the after events of the Foxglove than it was about going there. If Victor had approached him in the club he would insist they have one drink and then pull his sexy ass out of there and to his place ASAP! Best be believin'!!
> 
> Jim's conduct in the club with Sean may have seem a bit douche baggy but again, we are dealing with two strong willed and impetuous men with crazy sex drives. Plus, there's no ring on that finger!
> 
> Getting to this point with Jess has been a journey! LOTS OF LAUGHS. SHIT TONS OF LAUGH! Also a temper or two may have been ignited but I would do it all over again with her if she asks. All she has to do is snap them pretty fingers of hers and I would be on Google.docs in an instant. Like a god damn strung-out genie.
> 
> We originally thought about ending things with the Foxglove but we decided to give readers some bonus material that works well with leaving things open ended (which I am going to take advantage of once I finish moving).
> 
> Thanks for getting this far. Stick around though! Next chapter is going to satiate, promise! ;)
> 
>  ————
> 
> *Jess leans back in her seat, stretches a wide grin at Deya, bites her lower lip and slowly shakes her head while loosing a throaty and appreciative laugh*
> 
> Basically what Deya said. Yeah. Everything that Deya said. I couldn’t agree more.
> 
> Well, except for the douchy Jim statement anyway. I really liked watching that. *shrugs* Hey. I like to watch —but not as much as I enjoy my sexy time with my Jim! (Oh, and imagining that The Foxglove plays Peaches every time Victor enters it. I can’t help it. I love her ridiculous porny music. I embedded a link in there for the curious. And sorry/not sorry for my shameless Joy Division references y’all. I can’t help myself. Those guys ushered in post punk, and are one of my favorite bands!) 
> 
> So yeah, back to what FC said: Things will be heating up very soon —that’s for D&MN sure. (Jess laughs at how ridiculously indulgent we are with these two.) 
> 
> -o- }8>


	13. Unknown Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finally gets Jim all to himself for extended playtime at the detective’s apartment.

—>z<—

Victor Zsasz considers himself a patient man. He’s accustomed to waiting, frequently doing so stalking his marks, but the longer he waits in Jim’s darkened bedroom surrounded by his scent, the more impatient he grows.

Zsasz recalls the last time he lie on this very spot, looking up at Jim —fingers dug deeply into his ass as he feverishly thrusted up into him. He remembers Jim in his mouth and Jim’s mouth on him. He even remembers how Jim cuts up his waffles into those little triangles and builds his bite with whipped cream and strawberries. He pictures that bite slowly entering _that_ _perfect_ _mouth_ and the descent of Jim’s adam’s apple when he swallows.

As more time passes, Victor begins second-guessing himself, wondering if he miscalculated. He’s now been waiting over an hour. Jim could’ve _easily_ hooked up with someone else. Victor suddenly pictures Mr. Hot Italian Model and his jealousy flares. Just then, he hears Jim finally arrive home _alone_. Victor calmly takes a breath to temper himself and stands in preparation to greet him.

Jim opens the door and reaches for the light switch. He’s about to take off his jacket when he looks up and sees Victor standing by his bedside. Jim blinks, wondering if he’s hallucinating.

Victor smiles broadly.

“Hi, Jim.”

Jim drops the water bottle and rushes to him as he chokes out.

“Zsa—”

Jim eagerly wraps his arms around the tall man’s neck, pressing his body onto Victor’s. He plants a hard and eager kiss on his lips but pulls back and gives Victor a stern look.

“You never showed!”

Victor blinks as he tilts his head and offers a sly grin at Jim’s gravelly incrimination.

“ _Actually_ , _I_ _did_.”

Victor raises a brow and bites his lower lip as he rakes his eyes all over Jim.

“You look _fantastic_ , by the way.”

Jim lets him go and furrows his brows together, peeved that he didn’t join him at the club.

“If you were there, why didn’t you approach me or answer my text? I sat there half the night, _waiting_.”

Victor swivels his head the other direction and pulls down the corners of his mouth.

“Well you _sure_ seemed to enjoy yourself the _other_ half of the night.”

Jim swallows. He had forgotten he was lip locked with Sean. He takes a deep breath and places his hand on Victor’s chest. He drags his fingers down to where his vest dips into a “V”. He shrugs and casts his eyes down to where his fingers lie.

“I assumed I got stood up. I didn’t want the night a total bust.”

Victor nuzzles Jim’s neck and purrs in his ear.

“I wanted to _watch_ you.”

Jim releases his tense muscles when he feels the assassin’s warm breath in his ear. Victor’s voice can make him hard in no time flat. The swell below fills rapidly; Jim bites his lower lip and gazes back up.

“Oh, you wanted to watch me? Whatever for?”

“I _like_ watching you, Jim.”

Victor pulls Jim closer.

“Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Victor tugs Jim’s earlobe with his teeth and growls in his ear.

“I also wanted to see what you might... _like_.”

Jim reaches up and and curls his fingers under Victor’s holster straps. He holds them tight and leans in just hair width away from Victor’s lips. Jim whispers.

“Oh, there were a couple of things I liked.”

Jim places a soft kiss on his lips and adds.

“I would be happy to let you do all those things we spoke of on the phone. If you so wanted.”

Victor wraps his hands around Jim’s fingers on his holster straps.

“I’d like that.”

He frowns down at Jim’s fingers and remarks (more to himself than to Jim).

“You’re the only person I’ve ever let touch my holster.”

Zsasz releases his hands from atop Jim’s and runs them down the sides of his face to capture the man’s lips. He opens wide and plunges his tongue deeply inside that mouth he can never get enough of.

Jim meets his tongue with his own. He unhands the holster and wraps his arms around his neck. The tempo of his breathing quickens; he whimpers in Victor’s mouth. He can’t get over how sweet and warm his lips are.

He pulls back and lightly traces Victor’s lips with two fingers.

“Two weeks felt like an eternity away from these lips.”

Jim reaches for his jacket, the heat he’s feeling is intense and unbearable. His body burns with the need to feel Zsasz pressed to his naked form. He starts shrugging the leather jacket off his shoulders.

Victor watches as Jim removes his jacket. The man barely has it off before Zsasz grabs his neck. He quickly unsheathes his combat knife and looks down as slices off the first button off Jim’s shirt, before returning his eyes to Jim.

Jim is so busy peeling off his jacket that he doesn’t see the lightning speed at which Zsasz grabs his throat. The blade seems to appear from nowhere as Victor eagerly slices off a button from his shirt. His jacket hangs at his elbows just off his shoulders. He wants to reach up to defend himself, a natural instinctive reaction. However, with his arms bound by the thick leather of his jacket, he’s unable to reach up. He swallows, he can feel his face burn red hot. He moans out.

“You came to play — _rough._ ”

Victor grins wide. He looks down as he lowers his knife and slices off the next button.

“Maybe a _little_.”

Victor looks down at his blade and slips it beneath Jim’s silk shirt, dragging it along the man’s bare skin.

“Isn’t that what _you_ want, Jim?”

Jim shudders, completely enraptured when he feels the cool steel against his skin. He straightens out his arms, allowing the jacket to fall to the floor. He reaches up his right hand to grasp the the wrist of the hand around his throat. There is something to be said about how unbelievably sexy Zsasz is when wielding a knife. He wonders how many victims felt drawn to Victor’s intense intimacy before the fatal stroke of his blade. A small part of him wants Victor to plunge the metal deep inside just so he can experience that special connection to the killer.

“I want to do _more_ than play.”

Victor slowly squeezes his fingers more tightly around Jim’s neck until hears the man start to strain under the pressure. When Zsasz feels Jim’s pulse become erratic, he hisses into his ear.

“As you wish, Jim.”

Victor slices off another two buttons, his grip around Jim’s neck unrelenting.

Jim can feel his mind slipping but he does nothing to stop it. It’s pure euphoria. His grip on the choking hand releases and falls slack by his side. He can feel the blade slice off more of his shirt’s buttons. He wants the assassin to have complete control and dominate him in every way.

“V..Victor.”

He gasps for air; his sight’s darkening. Jim can feel his knees start to give out.

Victor scrupulously studies Jim and his reactions to his grasp, noting his tells and estimating his limits. As Jim falters, Zsasz slackens his grip just enough to let him catch his breath. Once Jim’s eyes become more focused, Victor leans in closely.

“I know you do, but I play _hard_. I want us to have as much fun as possible, so you need to tell me if we’re playing _too_ hard, okay?”

Jim nods, his head clearing a bit.

“Waffles.”

Jim grins.

“Safe word.”

Victor bites his lower lip and leans into Jim’s ear.

“ _Perfect._  ‘Waffles’ it is.”

Zsasz pulls back briefly, tilting his head and eyeing Jim up and down. He retracts his facial muscles and juts out his jaw, before slowly blinking once and returning his gaze. He swivels his head the opposite direction.

“Oh. Let’s say, for some reason, you can’t actually _talk_. Can we agree on one finger for ‘slow down’ and two fingers for ‘stop’?”

Jim smiles and hooks his hands through Victor’s belt. He purrs as he grinds himself on him. His excitement increasing with each thrust. He isn’t sure how long he will be able to hold out. He snaps out of his thoughts when Victor mentions using fingers. He grins up at Victor’s serious face.

“Well, sure but I guess I’m screwed if I can’t talk or use my hands.”

“Guess you are.”

He returns to what he’s doing and grinds harder onto the assassin. Jim looks down to where his groin is contacting Victor’s. He pushes his hips slower, completely mesmerized by his actions.

Victor twitches slightly and softly moans in response to Jim’s grinding hips.

“Anything else I need to know?”

Jim continues to grind himself on Victor, completely distracted by what he is doing. He glances up and shakes his head. He understands that safe words are necessary, but he’s ready and wants to speed this part up. He returns his gaze below and says.

“No.”

Victor flashes his teeth and immediately clamps harder around Jim’s neck. He looks back down to Jim’s shirt and slices down through the remaining buttons to the point of his belt buckle in one rapid movement, before repeating the action on the buttons of his cuffs.

When Victor returns his eyes to Jim, he tightens his jaw and gives him a hard stare before withdrawing his blade and releasing him.

“Take off your shirt.”

Jim takes in a deep breath as soon as the hand disappears. He starts peeling the ruined shirt off his shoulders. He rips off the last two buttons that are tucked in his pants. He looks up into Victor’s dark eyes as he lets the lustrous silk shirt slowly fall off his body.

Victor assesses the detective’s right arm as it works the black shirt off his frame and appreciatively watches as the falling garment reveals his torso. He’s now confident Jim isn’t trying to conceal any impairment and can handle restraint behind the back.

Zsasz quickly tangles his fingers in Jim’s hair and yanks his head, growling in his ear.

“Get on the bed.”

Jim hisses loudly with the sudden yank. His hands instinctively come up to grab at the forceful hand. His right hand grabs at Victor’s wrist while his left hand grabs at his forearm. He twists his body towards the yank, firmly holding onto the punishing hand. He closes his eyes and rapidly breathes out of his parted lips.

He hears the command and releases Victor’s arm. Once the hand disappears, he sits back onto the bed, unsure if he should lay down or remain seated. He remains on the edge of the bed in a seated position. He looks up at Zsasz and blinks a few times.

Victor looms above the beautiful man as he removes his shoulder holster and places it on Jim’s nightstand. He gazes down and slowly caresses the side of Jim’s face with his free hand, watching as it traces down the line of his jaw before looking back into Jim’s eyes. Suddenly, Victor rears back the gloved hand and delivers a punishing slap across Jim’s face.

“Lie down face up.”

Jim looks up at Victor as he caresses his face. Quicker than he can register, Victor’s hand rears back for a brain rattling slap. Jim lets out a gasp, and feels himself falling over towards the head of the bed. He barely hears Zsasz’s command over the ringing in his head. He holds onto the headboard and nods.

He crawls the rest of the way onto the bed and lies on his back. He brings his right hand up and lightly strokes his stinging right cheek. He gives Victor a salacious grin as he undulates his hips and moans.

Victor tilts his head and smiles down at the supine and writhing man. His gloved fingers reach for Jim’s lips. The assassin slowly trails down his chin and around his neck, studying his face for a twitch, but sees none. Zsasz sighs as he traces the hollow of Jim’s collarbone.

“Are you _sure_ you didn’t know I was watching you earlier?”

Jim looks up at him confused. He shakes his head.

“I thought you were with Oswald, busy working.”

“Is _that_ why you spent so much time with his lookalike?”

Jim freezes for a moment but smiles and shrugs.

_I guess now he knows I have a thing for Oswald. Oh crap._

Jim clears his throat.

“Like I said, I thought you stood me up. I know the kid. Nothing but some kissing.”

Victor continues dragging his gloved fingers down Jim’s body, slowly traversing his pecs and circling around a taut pink nipple.

“Did you get hard?”

Jim feels his body stiffen with the question. His heart starts to race.

_What do I say to that?_

“Well? _Did_ you?”

Jim shifts on the bed and leans away from Zsasz to look up at him.

“Are you really going to ask me that?”

Jim scoffs and shrugs. He looks Victor in the eyes and defiantly retorts.

“Yeah, I was hard. He’s a pretty boy.”

Victor arches a brow as he smiles and wistfully replies.

“He _is_ , isn’t he?”

Victor joins Jim on the bed. He sets one knee down and straddles Jim with the other. Once above the man, he places the spine of his combat knife between his teeth, removes his gloves and tosses them onto Jim’s nightstand.

Jim squirms under Victor and raises on his elbows. He doesn’t like Victor questioning him about Sean. Jim’s enjoying the attraction between the two of them, but as far as he knows, they aren’t in any committed relationship. He wonders if Victor thinks otherwise. He wants to ask, but he’s sure the assassin would shrug it off and dismiss it. He decides to prod him another way.

“Why do you care if I was hard for a twink? Last I looked, I didn't belong to you.”

Jim scowls at Zsasz and grits his teeth. He still remembers Victor coming to the strip club with the young blonde. The pretty boy latched onto Victor all the while the assassin was still hoping to hook up with him.

Despite Victor’s impassive countenance, Jim’s retort surprises him. He withdraws the blade from between his teeth and drags it down the man’s sternum, slowly shaking his head.

“ _No_ , Jim. You _don’t._ ”

Jim looks down at the blade as his breathing escapes him. He’s sure he may have pushed Victor’s buttons a little too hard with that statement. He looks back up into Victor’s eyes. His common sense still taking a back seat as he asks again.

“Then why do you _care?_ ”

Victor clenches his jaw and twists the angle of the blade to sink past the surface of Jim’s flesh. He watches the blood pool at the cut before returning a darkened glare, the timbre of his voice growing treacherous.

“I want you _for_ _myself_.”

Jim hisses as the tip of the blade pierces through his skin. He grits his teeth and his instincts kick in. His right hand comes out and grabs Victor’s wrist; he rotates the hand and the blade off of him.

“What am I to you? A possession?”

Zsasz briefly looks down at his twisted wrist in the surpringing grip of Jim’s right hand, before quickly grabbing and clamping down hard on Jim’s neck with his other hand. He leans in close to the detective’s face, tilts his head and glares back, snarling.

“I _liked_ watching you with your friend — _right_ until he drew the curtain. Until then, I _thought_ I could share you.”

Jim’s grip on the hand holding the blade loosens. His mind races.

_What if Sean and I did have sex? Here’s something I didn’t think about, Victor being jealous._

Jim swallows thickly, his adam’s apple hitting Victor’s palm. He peers up at Victor and asks.

“And if I had fucked Sean?

Victor’s mind fills with images of Jim and Unknown Pleasures engaged in frenzied fucking. He begins squeezing Jim’s neck. The more Zsasz’s jealousy flares, the harder his grip tightens. He watches Jim strain under the pressure and replies with chilling menace.

“Just as long as I get to _watch_ , Jim.”

Jim relinquishes the hand with the blade, both of his hands reach for the one hand choking him. He gasps in large breaths and closes his eyes tight. His vision spotted with the lack of oxygen until Victor halts his clamping hand.

He glares at Victor.

“And if I refuse?”

Victor quickly returns the blade between his teeth. He takes the hand that once held it and tangles its fingers into Jim’s hair. Zsasz quickly removes his other hand from Jim’s neck and backhands him. He growls through the blade seated between his teeth.

“Do you _really_ wanna find out?”

He slaps Jim’s face the opposite direction, fingers still tangled in the man’s hair.

Jim grabs at the hand with a fistful of his hair. He then feels the knuckles and strength of the backhand. His head rings from the blow. He reaches up to pry Zsasz’s grip off his hair but is met with another slap.

He feels his temper flare.

“You will not —hurt _him!”_

Jim starts trying to buck Victor off of him.

When Victor feels Jim struggle beneath him, he hooks his ankles behind his knees and securely pins him. He tightly flexes his adductors, clamping the smaller man hard between his thighs. Jim’s struggling makes Zsasz’s dick rapidly swell and harden.

He grabs Jim’s face with his free hand and removes the blade from his mouth with the other. Victor quickly closes in and forces his mouth against Jim’s.

Jim reaches up and wraps his hands around Victor’s throat.

He starts squeezing.

Hard.

The force with which Jim clamps around his neck makes Victor rock hard. Zsasz has _never_ had anyone as spirited as Jim and it thrills him. He opens his mouth wide, forces his tongue into Jim’s mouth and begins aggressively rutting against him.

Jim’s struggling stops; he forgets why he’s fighting when Victor’s tongue enters his mouth. The feel of Victor’s body on top, grinding hard into him elicits a whimper; he releases Victor’s throat. He grabs onto Victor’s jacket lapels as he begins thrusting into his assertive lover.

Victor roughly kisses Jim and hungrily thrusts into him. He’s been aching to feel the detective against him again, forfeit in Jim’s hungry mouth and body until he forces himself to return to his senses. Zsasz pulls away and smiles down lasciviously.

Jim’s hands travel down to Victor’s hips. He deepens his undulations into the taller man above him. He opens his legs letting Victor fall in between. He then arches his back and slowly rolls his hips deeply into Victor’s. Jim inhales sharply and recalls their phone conversation. After that steamy sexy call, he’s touched himself twice everyday, if not more. He’s been aching to feel Victor on top of him.

“Victor…”

Between heavy breaths, Victor takes his blade and returns it to Jim’s chest, slowly dragging it, watching the crimson furrow it leaves behind. He returns his eyes to Jim’s, eyes tracking back and forth. He dreamily drawls in response.

“Yes, Jim?”

Jim grabs Victor’s face and growls.

“I want to feel you. _Please._ I want to feel your naked body on mine. _Now._ ”

Victor stretches a smile, looking down at Jim’s lips then back into his eyes. He quickly returns the blade to his mouth and shifts his weight —keeping his legs hooked around Jim’s.

Victor thrusts into Jim a few more times before removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor. His vest quickly joins. Zsasz removes his scarf and quickly yanks his shirt from his pants before removing the knife from his mouth. He slices the buttons from his shirt and cuffs, unwilling to waste any time unbuttoning them. He yanks off his wasted shirt and tosses it to the floor in one seamless movement.

Jim reaches down and unbuttons and unzips his own pants. He grins at Zsasz when he sees him use the blade on his shirt.

“Mmm. Guess you will have to use my dress blues in the morning after all.”

Victor flashes his teeth and arches a brow.

“Guess so.”

Zsasz reaches down into Jim’s pants and rubs him through his boxers.

“How I have missed you.”

Jim throws back his head when he feels Victor’s firm hand over his boxers. Fingers curling to get as much of his length as possible through the thin fabric. He lets out a long breathy moan.

“Yes-s-s.”

Jim begins thrusting into Victor’s hand. His hands shoot out to hold onto the headboard. He brings his gaze back to the man above him.

“I’ve missed _you._ ”

Victor’s jaw slackens with the thrill of having Jim’s hardened cock in his hand. He quickly removes it and reaches _into_ Jim’s boxers, moaning once he has hold of detective’s throbbing girth. Victor looks deeply into Jim’s eyes and eagerly begins tossing him.

Jim bites the bicep of his right arm as his grip on the headboard tightens. He thrusts slowly into Victor’s hand.

“Victor. Now. I need you now!”

Zsasz immediately unfastens his buckle and pants as he rises off Jim to stand beside the bed. Victor sets his combat knife alongside his holster. He unlaces his boots and toes them off, kicking them under the bed along with his forgotten duffle bag and lengths of rope, before yanking his pants open and off with the rest of his clothes.

Jim kneels on the bed and pulls the waistband of his pants and boxers down past his hips. He then lays down on his back and kicks his shoes off. He wiggles out of his pants and boxers, kicking them off the bed. He slowly stretches and smiles at the gorgeous naked man standing next to his bed.

Zsasz quickly joins Jim, slotting himself between his legs —groaning when their bodies meet and he feels Jim’s hardened cock against his own. He ruts into Jim a few times before sliding an arm beneath him and running his fingers through his hair with the other. Victor holds Jim’s head and draws him forward to meet his mouth.

Jim opens his mouth to let Victor in. He presses his inner thighs to Victor’s body as he loosely drapes his legs around his hips. He moans in between kisses as he rolls his body into Victor. He wants Victor to lose control and claim him. He says in between kisses and heavy breaths.

“Make me _yours_.”

Victor moans and removes his mouth from Jim’s. He lowers it to Jim’s neck, flicking his tongue across it before sinking in his teeth. He moans at Jim’s yielding flesh and quickening pulse. Zsasz rakes his teeth down Jim’s neck and shoulder before tonguing the hollows of his collarbone.

Jim’s hands caress Victor as his mouth travels downward. He gently pushes down on his head to keep him going. His thrusting becoming urgent. He needs to feel his lips on his cock once again.

“Please, I _need_ your lips.”

Victor desperately wants Jim in his mouth again, but tempers himself. He painstakingly slinks further down Jim’s body, straddling a leg to ensure the man knows _exactly_ how hard he is and how badly he wants him. Zsasz feels the faint thin trail he leaves behind.

The assassin smiles when he recognizes the scar Tsunade’s bullet left behind when he first met the detective and was charged with bringing him in for Don Falcone. Zsasz briefly strokes and kisses the cicatrix before he flicks his tongue along Jim’s rib cage and nips along his twitching abs and obliques.

Jim whimpers when Victor doesn’t move faster. He feels like he’s going to explode from the mere thought of his lips around him.

“V-V-Victor...Oh shit…. _”_

Jim struggles to focus on anything but the anticipation of Zsasz’s mouth wrapped around him. He’s shocked at how Victor doesn't even need to touch his dick and he’s about to bust a nut. The feel Victor’s mouth on him spurs on the sweet memories of his amazing blowjob. Jim’s body nearing a release over a recollection.

Victor continues, placing his mouth in the hollow of Jim’s left hip. He flicks his tongue across the peak of his hipbone as he reaches for the man’s right knee with his left hand. Zsasz smiles at the detective’s swollen and ruddy cock, mere inches from his mouth. He delights in the spectacle of the famously reserved and unflappable Jim Gordon desperately thrusting towards _his_ mouth, shamelessly and wantonly offering himself.

Victor wants this to last. He takes his time, wistfully sighing as he briefly fingers the cicatrix marking the bullet _he_ left in Jim’s quad and slowly drags his palm up his inner thigh. He coaxes the detective’s leg open as he painstakingly inches toward his groin.

Jim whimpers pathetically. His release threatening to come with the slightest touch. He tries to focus on anything other than what Victor is doing. He can't think of anything so he shouts out.

“Hurt me! Please. Victor! Please!”

Victor smirks before sinking his teeth deeply into Jim’s hip. He feels Jim’s taut muscles tighten and contract the harder he clamps down, waiting for the moment Jim _really_ registers the pain. He bites so hard he can actually feel the bony process of Jim’s iliac spine, just past his iliosacral muscles beneath his clamping jaw.

Jim gasps when he feels Victor’s sharp teeth on his hip. He shakes his head when the clamp of his teeth does not relent. He squirms when the pain really starts setting in, but he doesn’t want Victor to let up. He morbidly grins at a fleeting thought of Victor eating him alive.

“Oh god! Please! Yes — _more!”_

Victor continues biting down harder before eventually slackening. He rises from Jim and leans across him to reach for his combat knife. He twirls it in his fingers before laying the steel against Jim’s abdominals and flipping it blade side down. After it sinks past Jim’s flesh, Victor takes a swipe. He grins and sighs dreamily at the quickly-forming red gash marring the man’s quivering flesh.

Jim cries out. His dick then throbs in response to a deep fantasy of Victor slicing into him. He thrusts his hips onto Victor as the sting settles deep.

“God, that feels so good.”

Jim wraps his fingers over Victor’s hand wielding the weapon. He firmly coaxes the assassin to slice him again.

Victor softly groans in response to Jim’s encouragement. He takes his blade and sinks a bit further, slicing Jim more deeply this time. More blood pools on Jim’s body. Zsasz can’t resist the urge to lap up the vermillion nectar. Zsasz flattens his tongue and takes a long indulgent lick —moaning at Jim’s warm, coppery essence.

Jim moans as the blade goes in further. He closes his eyes and lets out a loud hiss. It felt right to let Victor carve him; he caresses his smooth head as he purrs.

“Yes. That.”

Jim continues with his undulations onto Victor’s body. He moans with a bit of desperation.

“I want you inside me.”

Victor yearns to carve more of Jim’s lovely flesh until he hears his licentious demand. He quickly returns the blade to the nightstand, yanks open its drawer and rummages for lube, despite having some in his bag —unwilling to leave Jim for a moment. After locating some, he prepares his fingers as he gazes down at the smaller man.

Jim watches as Zsasz haphazardly shuffles through his nightstand. He chuckles softly as his fingertips lightly run up and down Victor’s chest. He watches on as Victor lubes his fingers. Jim blinks and softly asks.

“Don’t you want me bound first?”

Jim’s made Victor wait long enough these past weeks. He isn’t _about_ to prolong it any further. He’s been _aching_ to bury himself inside of Jim. Zsasz expertly reaches down between the man’s legs, beneath his balls and slips in a digit.

“Oh, we’ve got _plenty_ of time for all _that_.”

Jim inhales deeply and squirms. The feel of the finger slipping inside him is unexpected, at least as quickly as Victor did it. He was expecting a slow insertion. After the initial shock of it, he relaxes and grabs Victor’s face. His presses his mouth to Victor’s, gasping as the finger wiggles and swirls deep inside of him.

Victor pulls away from Jim’s mouth and descends down his body again. He returns to Jim’s hips and tongues along the angry indentations left by his teeth before licking the hollow of Jim’s hip. He slowly drags his mouth further between Jim’s legs, taking in Jim’s heady scent as he licks along Jim’s inguinal crease (the innermost part of his groin). As Jim grinds more urgently, Victor slowly slips in another finger.

The urgency of which he needs to feel filled by Victor intensifies. He begins rolling his body onto the finger, he then feels another finger go in. His hands ball into fists at his forehead as he thrusts deeply onto Victor’s fingers.

“Oh god, that feels — _so_ good!”

Victor continues teasing Jim with his mouth, taking one last look at his eager body before he closes his eyes to concentrate on the digits he has inside. He curls them, reaching upward to find _that_ spot —the one that will make Jim _crazy_. Make Jim _his_. Once he arrives upon it, he rubs it and drags his tongue up Jim’s shaft. He slowly wraps his lips around the tip of Jim’s dick and begins sucking.

“Holy fuck! Victor! There!”

Jim feels his abdominals tighten and a warm sensation begins to come in waves. The feel of Victor's mouth on his already excited erection is too much to endure. He tries pushing Victor’s head away.

“No, please! I don’t want to cum just yet. Stop!”

He can feel his muscles contract, the feel of Victor’s fingers alone are bringing him to release.

Victor basks in Jim’s loss of control. He tries sucking him more, but Jim pushes his head away. Between Jim’s eagerness, his tightening abdominals and attempts to push him off his cock, the man inadvertently raises his hips and Victor’s able to slide in a third finger. He feels Jim’s constricting muscles tighten against him. Zsasz’s dick twitches in response.

Jim stops fighting Victor as he feels a third finger slip inside. The warm contractions intensify. He arches his back and lets out a long deep moan as the sensation persists. He shakes his head, unable to understand this new sensation. It feels like an orgasm but with no release of cum. He shudders and grabs for Victor’s shoulders.

“What...is _this_!?”

Victor smiles and stimulates Jim more.

“Oh. _This_. right. _here?_ ”

Jim feels his body spike with heat, the contractions in his abdominals muscles roll and contract. He can’t think or speak, only whimper.

He grabs onto the headboard and throws back his head as he shouts a long exclamation.

“F-f-f-f-f-uck! _Victor!_ ”

Victor slows his palpation inside of Jim and begins sliding in and out of him. He takes another long swipe up Jim’s shaft and teases the tip of his cock with the soft underside of his tongue.

Jim lets the headboard go and clutches at the blankets. The presence of Victor’s tongue on his aching cock forces a shaky plea from him.

“Victor, now please! I need you inside me!”

Victor relishes Jim’s loss of control. He takes him as far as he can into his mouth —moaning, sucking and bobbing a few more times before releasing him. He reaches for the bottle of lube and prepares his aching cock before rising. Victor slots himself between Jim’s legs and reaches beneath his ass, hoisting him upward to position himself at Jim’s entrance.

Zsasz’s breathing quickens with anticipation. Jaw slack, he looks down at Jim’s face as his cock slowly breaches him, softly moaning and shuddering as he does.

Jim holds onto the blankets in tight fists. He can feel Victor raise his hips to gain better access to his slick hole. He looks up onto the face of his lover. He can feel his body slowly give way as Victor inches forward.

Jim cries out and clutches the blankets to his body. He can feel the slow drag of the head slip beyond his muscle. He closes his eyes and breathlessly wails.

“Oh! God! Victor!”

His hands release the blanket and pushes onto Victor’s chest. His size is too much and too soon.

Victor looks down as he slowly fills Jim, forcing himself to take his time despite the overwhelming urge to plow into his taut swelter. He closes his eyes to better appreciate the drag of his cock as it lurches further inside Jim’s constricting muscles.

Jim tries to bring his legs up to keep Victor from going in all the way. He can feel himself panic at the large intrusion inside his body. His tight muscles threatening to tear. He can feel the large veined topography of Victor’s cock with each slow bit ushered in. He thrusts his palms onto Victor’s chest and shakes his head. He starts to feel lightheaded. His breathing coming in too fast and beyond his control; he’s about to pass out.

Zsasz’s attention shifts with Jim’s struggling. He opens his eyes and sees that Jim looks panicked despite the fact he’s not used his safe word or raised a finger. Victor stops.

“Jim?”

Jim can feel sweat bead and pour down his head and neck. He looks up when he hears his name. He says through labored breaths, his voice sounding strained and desperate.

“Wait, _please_. Let me get use to you first.”

“Of course.”

As Victor keeps his hips perfectly still, he slowly smiles and reaches for Jim’s swollen cock. He glides his thumb along the tip of it, spreading his precum. Zsasz’s jaw slackens and he languidly begins stroking Jim’s dick.

Jim tries his hardest to get his breathing under control. The feel of Victor inside of him almost too much to bear. He closes his eyes and tries his best to relax his muscles. He smiles with the presence of Victor’s hand. He focuses on the feel of his thumb as it teases him. Jim softly gasps when Victor's hand wraps around his length and begins to stroke him.

He can feel the pain slowly dull as his body adjusts to Victor’s size. He softly thrusts his hips into his lover’s hand. The movements small at first, then becoming deeper. Jim can feel Victor’s hardness throb and jolt with each movement he makes. He lets out a long soft moan as his thoughts linger on how powerful and hard Victor feels deep inside of him.

Zsasz does his best to remain still despite the sight beneath him, Jim’s swollen cock in his hand and his delicious heat clenching around him. He closes his eyes and concentrates on Jim’s dick, teasing his frenulum with his pad of his thumb and his other fingers. He _has_ to taste Jim again. Victor draws his fingers pads up to his mouth, closes his eyes and slowly drags Jim’s salt across his tongue, moaning.

“Mmm… I _have_ missed you, Jim… your _taste_.”

Jim bats his eyes at Zsasz as the assassin licks his hand clean.

“I love it when you taste me. It’s so unbelievably hot.”

Jim begins thrusting his hips down onto Victor’s erection, letting more of him inside.

When Jim’s body accepts Victor more deeply, his brow softens and he softly moans. As he sinks further, he searches Jim’s eyes for signs of hesitation.

Jim closes his eyes and rolls his hips down further onto Victor; fists clutching onto the covers. He then plunges his hips down hard. He can feel Victor’s cock throb and bounce against the thin and sensitive walls of his tract.

“God, you feel so _good_.”

Jim’s rolling hips and words prompt Victor to sink further inside until he fills Jim completely. Zsasz quietly grunts once he’s flush against the man, balls nudging him. He slowly pulls out a few inches, rolls his hips and repeats, gradually gaining momentum. Victor gazes down and eventually hears the soft slapping of his body against Jim’s.

Jim wraps his arms around Victor’s neck. He brings his knees up towards his arms giving Victor access to thrust unhindered into him. Jim forces his mouth onto Victor’s, scraping his thick lips with his teeth. He can feel the delicious heat and contractions deep inside of him as the large cock rubs against the special spot. He unlatches his mouth from Victor’s and screams out.

“Fu—uck! Victor!”

Victor’s forfeit in the decadent drag of his cock as it slips in and out of Jim. He forces his tongue deeply inside Jim’s mouth. When Jim removes his mouth to cry out, Victor gazes into those eyes and down at those swollen lips and feels jolt to his shaft. The heat spreads throughout his hips and down his thighs. He nudges his deltoids and biceps against Jim’s knees and shins begins pumping in earnest.

Jim grabs onto his shoulders and brings his hips up more to meet Victor’s thrusts with his own. He throws his head back losing himself to the moment. The feel of Victor’s rock hard body on him as he thrusts deep inside makes Jim’s body heat rise fast. His thoughts whirlwind all over the place: from appreciating the melody of Victor’s heavy breaths and moaning, to the sinful and forbidden ecstacy of their affair, finally to the symbolic action of taking Victor’s power deep into himself.

Jim can feel himself nearing release. He stops his undulations and smiles up at his lover.

“Let’s move to another position. You decide.”

Victor nudges Jim’s lips open with own as he continues thrusting, kissing him deeply before forcing himself to pull himself off and out of Jim.

“Roll over.”

Jim rolls onto his belly, he turns his head to the left and eyes Victor, expectantly.

Victor straddles Jim and reaches beneath his hips, hoisting them up to get a better view of and access to his perfect ass. He firmly strokes down his haunches with both his hands, before kneading the taut unmarked flesh of his rump. Zsasz bends down and flicks his tongue along it, biting once before rearing back a hand and smacking it with a stinging blow.

Jim lets out a gasp and moans when the sting of the slap settles deep in his cheek. Jim reaches far back, down between his legs and strokes Victor’s balls. He turns his head and gives him a narrowed glance.

“I love it when you’re rough.”

Victor quietly groans and raises his hand to deliver three more blows in rapid succession. He smiles down at the angry raised flesh he leaves behind and bends down to flick his tongue across it. Zsasz then positions a knee directly inside Jim’s to nudge it further apart before entering him again.

Jim props himself up on his hands and awaits Victor to reenter him.

As Victor pushes himself inside Jim a second time, he reaches for his hair to pull his head back. He places his other hand on Jim’s hip as he breaches him, savoring the drag inside the constricting inner walls that accept him more easily. The muscles Jim engages to rise to his knees from all fours clamp hard around Victor’s cock and elicit a grunt.

Jim can feel Victor enter him more quickly and mercilessly this time around. The hand in his hair yanks his head back. He follows the pull of the hand and raises off his hands as he grabs onto the wrist.

As Jim follows the pull upward, Victor leans into meet Jim’s body, spreading his own knees further apart and shifting his body to accommodate the change in position. He releases Jim’s hair, caresses the side of his face and reaches for his neck. Victor’s other hand impatiently slides from his hip to Jim’s swollen dick.

“ _Fuck_ me.”

Jim feels the thrill of Victor’s hand around his throat and his cock. He begins rolling his hips, the hardness inside of him throbs and plunges deeply into him. He reaches back and places his right hand on the back of Victor’s neck. He turns his head and licks at his lips.

Victor tilts his head and leans into Jim’s mouth. He eagerly pushes out his tongue to meet Jim’s as he thrusts, working hard to remember the man’s cock while drunk on his crumbling inhibition.

Jim lets Victor’s neck go. He falls forward onto the bed with his hips in the air. He loses himself with the feel of Victor’s motions. He grabs a pillow and buries his face into it as Victor slams in and out of him.

After a few moments, he looks back at Victor and pulls away from him.

“Come, follow me.”

Victor shakes his head and blinks, struggling to process the sudden loss of contact and Jim’s words. He watches Jim get up and look back at him, eyes beckoning. Victor’s erection holds fast against his body as he climbs off the bed and follows behind.

Jim grabs the bottle of lube and scarf that are lying on the floor. He then saunters out of the bedroom and into the living room.

He loosely wraps Victor’s scarf around his neck as he approaches a leather recliner. He looks back at Victor and commands.

“Sit down.”

Victor grins broadly before he complies, watching Jim Gordon flaunt his authority with nary a badge nor a stitch of clothing.

Jim places his hands on the armrest of the recliner and leans in to give Zsasz a kiss. He then slowly descends to his knees. He squirts lube into his hand and drops the bottle on the ground. He wraps his right hand around the red and throbbing cock before him. Slowly adding lube to the entire length.

He then stands and climbs over Victor. His legs draping over the armrests. He takes Victor’s cock in a hand and places it at his slick hole. He raises his hips and slowly lowers himself onto Victor. The size and thickness still a bit much for his worked body but the pain quickly passes and is overshadowed by pleasure.

Once he is fully inside, Jim breathes out.

“Choke me.”

Victor watches on as Jim assumes control. The rational part of his brain that still functions is staggered by the awareness that Jim has him spellbound, but it’s soon forgotten once the man takes him into _that_ hand again, rubbing and tugging at his ruddy cock. Victor is transfixed as Jim shamelessly mounts him and takes his entire length, without a whimper or a sign of hesitation. He moans the instant Jim’s ass nudges against him.

The assassin's jaw slackens as he looks into Jim’s eyes and registers his demand. He couldn't deny Jim if he tried. He’s bewitched. Zsasz reaches for the dangling scarf and slowly begins curling his fingers into it. As he does, Victor thrusts his hips upward into Jim, pumping him faster and more deeply.

Jim leans back and places his palms on Victor’s knees. His begins rolling his abdominals and hips into the thrusts. The sweet tight sensation around his neck getting tighter little by little. Jim can feel his body spiking with heat. The pressure deep down building as he feels the bounce and friction of Zsasz deep in his folds.

His face starts burning and his thrusts start to stutter as his orgasm nears.

Victor concentrates hard as he tightens the scarf around the smaller man’s neck, finding it challenging with Jim’s intoxicating rhythm and clamping muscles. Zsasz feels the exquisite pressure gathering inside him, but also recognizes the telltale signs that Jim is close. Victor growls, low and deep.

“ _That’s_ _it_ , Jim. _Cum_ for me.”

Jim’s thrusts onto Victor pick up speed, his mind losing itself to the sweet oblivion of asphyxiation and the explosive orgasm cresting over his senses.

He feels the explosion of cum release, Victor’s body working him harder and relentlessly. The lack of oxygen adding to the sensation of the orgasm, his senses tingling, he’s near blacking out.

“Y-Y-Yes —Zsasz!”

Jim’s exhibiting signs that he’s close to passing out. Zsasz watches intently as he bursts above him and rides out his orgasm. The instant his thrusting subsides, Victor quickly releases the scarf and pulls Jim toward him. He takes the detective’s jaw in one hand and caresses his face with the other, looking deeply into his eyes.

Jim takes in large gasps of air and shakes his head. He wraps his arms around Zsasz’s shoulders and smiles at him.

Victor emits a soft puff of amusement before again taking the dangling ends to drag Jim closer to his mouth. He kisses Jim deeply and resumes thrusting upward. He releases the scarf and slides his hands down Jim’s pecs and obliques before gliding to his hips. Zsasz reaches around for Jim’s ass, digging his fingers into it and pulling him closer. He gazes up at Jim and begins to feel a swell of affection he can hardly grasp.

Jim grabs onto the back of the leather recliner and begins thrusting his hips onto Victor. He looks down, noticing his cum all over Victor’s chest and a few splatters on his face. Jim smiles evilly at the sight, satisfied with the mess he made all over the smooth assassin.

“Mmm, you look so good covered in my cum.”

Victor crinkles his brow momentarily before gazing up at Jim with an open-mouthed smile.

“ _Yeah?_ Do you _really_ think it looks good on me?”

Victor flicks out his tongue to gather some from the side of his mouth, soon feeling the heat spread from his hips and the pressure build as Jim skillfully works him. His eyes become hooded and unfocused, jaw slackening in response.

Jim leans back, placing his palms on Victor’s knees again. He rolls deep and fast onto Victor. The buildup of Victor’s impending release makes his hardness throb erratically inside of him. Jim lays a hand on his own penis, feeling the swell of another erection coming slowly. He releases himself to focus on Victor’s pleasure.

Jim raises up and slowly comes back down on Victor. He does this a few more times then keeps rolling into him, grinding hard and slow onto his hips.

Victor closes his eyes and surrenders to his mounting pleasure as his breathing grows heavier. The delicious push and pull of his cock sliding in and out of Jim, his warmth and tightness cause Zsasz to begin slipping and faltering. He grasps Jim’s ass more firmly.

“Jim…”

Jim stops his thrusting and grinding to peer down at Victor.

“What is it, Victor?”

Jim smiles evilly as he keeps his body perfectly still, denying Zsasz friction.

Victor opens his eyes at the sudden stop and gazes up at Jim. He chuckles and shakes his head. Zsasz takes a deep breath, reaches for the recliner handle to extend it and grabs Jim’s neck, pulling the smaller man on top of him. He releases the handle, grabs Jim’s ass and fervently thrusts up into him.

Jim moans with excitement when Zsasz reclines the chair bringing him down with him. He tucks his feet onto the cushion and begins pistoning Victor in and out of him. He looks down into Victor’s clouded gaze and wraps both hands around his throat. He starts squeezing slowly as he keeps working Victor inside of him.

Victor falls further into the exquisite sensation of Jim’s clenching ass and his tightening fingers. Zsasz’s fingers claw deeply into his ass and his thrusts become more frenzied as he plows into the man straddling him.

“Ji—“

Jim looks down into Victor’s reddening face. He lets his throat go slightly. He then untucks his feet from on top of the cushion and drapes his legs back over the armrests. He doesn’t continue but smiles down at Victor, wanting to toy with him again.

“Oh, Victor. Is there something you want to say? Jim _—what?_ ”

Victor smiles up at Jim, grabs his hair, pulls him close and deeply kisses him. He draws Jim’s forehead to his own and gazes deeply into his impish blue eyes.

“Don’t _ever_ stop fucking me, Jim Gordon.”

Jim groans as Victor pulls his hair. He meets Victor’s mouth with his teeth. He bites on his lower lip and then releases it. He smiles at him as their foreheads press together. He whispers sweetly.

“Do you _want_ me?”

Jim begins swirling his hips from side to side. He growls deep and asks through gritted teeth.

“Do you _need_ me?”

Victor’s answer escapes his lips before he can think. He hisses down at Jim’s swiveling hips, drunk with pleasure.

“ _Yess…_ ”

“ _Good._ ”

Jim sits up and rolls his hips, building momentum quickly. He can feel himself getting hard again as Victor’s cock rubs and throbs on his prostate. He throws his head back as he loses himself, wanting to give Victor his release.

“God. You are so delicious!”

Victor can’t respond. He’s struck dumb by the blinding pressure and rapidly building swelter. It soon surges outward as he’s overcome by deeply spasming muscles. Zsasz thrusts erratically and copiously erupts inside Jim.

“J-J-JIM — _F-F-FUCK!_ ”

Jim leans in and watches Victor’s expressions of orgasmic satisfaction. He can’t get enough of the way he screams his name or when he cusses.

He caresses Victor’s smooth head with one hand. He leans his head on his shoulder of the other arm clutching the back of the recliner. His fingertips trace down the perfectly straight nose and graze thick swollen parted lips. He purrs with a smile.

“You’re so hot.”

Victor looks at Jim, slowly blinking and shaking his head. He chuckles incredulously.

“Apparently not as hot as _you_.”

Jim leans in and gives Victor a soft kiss.

“I hope you aren't planning on leaving any time soon. I was hoping to do this again in the morning.”

“Uhh… Jim. It’s _already_ morning.”

Jim looks towards the windows in his kitchen and sees the dim gray light of day break.

“Well shit, it is. Should we go get food and do this again then?”

Jim smiles down at Victor as he snatches the scarf off his neck and wraps it around Victor’s.

Victor shrugs and smiles.

“Sure, but we gotta see if can fit in your dress blues. I kinda ruined my shirt.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty smut smut...SMUT!
> 
> Yeah, we needed a whole chapter for us to fuck.
> 
> Even though this was meant to be just a smut chapter, there are some relationship revelations in there. Victor has established to Jim that he wants to be the one and only. He even went on to imply that bad things will happen if Jim finds himself with another. It's mildly psychotic, but can we really expect anything less of Zsasz?
> 
> Could it be that Victor is getting attached to the detective?
> 
> If you have read this far, stick around for some bonus material! This fragile relationship is destined to end one way or another.
> 
> ~FC
> 
> ————
> 
> Uh… h3ll yeah we did. Seriously, Jim: you made me wait for-f*cking-EVER. DAMB RIGHT we needed a whole chapter! (I’m just sayin’.)
> 
> Victor/Jess nonchalantly shrug(s). “Just as long as I get to watch, Jim.”
> 
> (Hey, what can I say? We like to watch. It’s the *not* being able to watch that was a bit, uh, anger/jealousy-provoking, at least as far as Sean goes anyway. Mr. Hot Italian Model on the other hand...)
> 
> And c’mon, really now. Detective Jim Gordon’s bested Victor how many times now? He’s totally gonna man crush on him. 
> 
> Oh wait. Zsasz *did* just kinda go a wee bit beyond the bounds of man crushing, didn’t he?
> 
> Hmm…
> 
> *insert confused Zsasz face here*
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
>  


	14. Officer Zsasz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Penguin’s aggressive seize of Gotham, the assassin and the detective find it difficult to make time for each other. Victor decides to surprise Jim at the GCPD.

—>j<—

Two weeks later.

It’s eleven at night and Jim’s catching up on some paperwork from the last two days of shootings and robberies. He can’t complain. He had a good rest when he was with his mother.

Jim hasn't gone hunting since he’s been back at work and pulling late night shifts. The main reason isn’t because of work, not really; there is another reason. Now that he and Zsasz are sort of a _thing_ (what that thing is, Jim still hasn’t figured out), he avoids all the old hangouts after dark. Penguin’s more aggressive than ever with turf grabs and has his own “enforcement” patrolling the streets. Jim doesn't want to chance putting Zsasz in a position to carry out kill orders. Jim especially doesn't want to be in a position to defend himself by deadly means if he finds himself in Victor’s targets.

Jim keeps to the GCPD and works late to expend some of his restless energy. If there’s nothing to do, he hops on his motorcycle and rides around Gotham. Also, after that talk with Harvey the night of his birthday, Jim’s guilt only seems to have worsened. Lying to Harvey’s face still messes with his head and probably always will. He can hardly look his best friend in the eye at times.

Jim sits at his desk; he turns his head as Harvey swaggers out of his office. Jim smiles at him and asks.

"Headed out, boss?”

Harvey places his hat on his head and threads his arms through his trenchcoat.

“Ya. Jim, I know I keep sayin' this, but I wish you would get da hell outta here and go have some fun. What happened to ‘Foxglove’ hook-up?”

Harvey eyes Jim as he clenches his jaw. He digs into his coat pocket to retrieve his gloves, but side glances the distracted detective as he awaits his response.

Jim shakes his head and grins down at his paperwork; he picks up where he left off and starts scribbling. He answers dismissively.

“It was just a one time thing.”

Jim glances up at Harvey and adds.

“Have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

Harvey offers him a two finger salute and quickly exits down to the bullpen and out the front doors.

Jim thinks about Zsasz and that night often. It was the single most amazing night (and half a day) of sex he’s ever had in his life. Since then, he and Victor have only managed to touch base through a few texts. Jim was sure Victor would move on, having his fill of what he wanted.

But in the last text he received two days ago, Zsasz asked him when he was going back to his mother’s so he could join.

Jim smiles as he signs his signature on the report. His mind brings up how incredibly ridiculous Victor looked in his dress blues button-up shirt. The fabric ripped at the shoulders and the buttons barely fastened. The huge smile on Victor’s face as he tried getting the buttons to pop off by flexing his muscles made Jim bust out laughing. He still laughs when he brings up the memory. Now that he remembers, his new shirt is ready at the tailor’s.

Jim shuffles paperwork on his desk; he’s going home to change into his riding clothes to take his Yamaha out for a spin.

His phone rings as he stands to collect his coat and gloves. He digs it out of his suit jacket.

Caller ID: _“Abusive Boyfriend_ ”.

Despite knowing the officers in the bullpen can see him, he smiles really big. He sits back down at his desk and turns from the bullpen as he flips open his phone.

 

—>z<—

Penguin keeps Victor and his men very busy the days following his night with Jim. The kingpin makes his influence known throughout Gotham and within the GCPD’s brass as he prepares to launch his crime licensure project. His club is also coming together nicely. He and Fries recently began discussing and researching how much they could safely sculpt the ice that held Nygma and maintain adequate refrigeration for it at the center of the club.

Zsasz frequently thinks of Jim no matter how busy Penguin keeps him, especially after their last incredible night together. Still, he’s a little disappointed with himself for being so impatient. He planned to play more with Jim before fucking him, but simply couldn’t bear to wait.

_“Don’t you want me bound first?”_

The fact Victor made all those preparations only to abandon them niggles away at him. He badly wants to bind Jim and use the detective’s handcuffs on him, but their conflicting schedules just won’t allow for it.

Undeterred, Zsasz devises a plan to surprise the man at work. He remembers Jim once mentioning Bullock often drinks and smokes out his office window when he’s stressed. In fact, the acting captain does it so often that he doesn’t bother to lock the window half the time. Victor smugly smiles at the thought of fucking Jim in the man’s office, especially after the shit Bullock pulled during their last meeting.

Victor rummages around his storage for an old GCPD uniform he acquired after a hit on a cop who wasn’t living up to his end of a bargain. The mark was around the same height and build as him and he thought the uniform might come in handy one day.

He tries it on and it fit surprisingly well (despite being a tad snug in the shoulders). Zsasz frowns down at all the excess material around his trunk and gathers it around back, tucking it into the trousers. Victor finishes the ensemble with the tie, jacket and hat before smiling at himself in the mirror.

Zsasz prepares his duffel bag again —this time including his shoulder holster before making his way to the precinct. The uniform and cover of night make it surprisingly easy for him to walk about unrecognized. He eventually locates Bullock’s window and kicks the cigarette butts aside before he tries opening it. He smiles when he finds it unlocked.

Fortunately, Bullock turned off the light in his office when he left. Victor tosses in his duffel bag and slithers into the window, lowering himself into the darkened room. He walks over to the door and peeks out the blinds.

Zsasz smiles when he spies Jim busy at his desk. He then closes the blinds, locks the door and clicks on the desk lamp to assess the room. In addition to a desk and office chair, Bullock had a leather loveseat against the wall beneath the windows looking out into the bullpen and a couple of guest chairs.

Victor pulls some wrist and ankle restraints from his bag and affixes them to one of the guest chairs. Next, he arranges a few lengths of pre-cut rope at the foot of the loveseat. Once the assassin is satisfied with his set up, he unlocks the door, sits at Harvey’s desk, dials Jim and clicks the desk lamp off.

Jim sits at his desk and turns his back to the bullpen. He snaps his phone open and greets his caller.

“Victor, long time no talk.”

Jim smiles. Victor emits a low, throaty chuckle.

“It _has_ been a while, hasn’t it?” He sucks his teeth. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I was about to leave work. After that, I have nothing planned.”

“Oh. I figured you were gonna be working all night.”

Victor sucks in a slow breath through his teeth before breathing out, his reply sultry.

“ _So…_ you gonna go _blow off some steam_ or somethin’?”

Jim glances around and makes sure that no one is close enough to listen in. He then whispers into his phone and says.

“Did _you_ want to help me blow off some _steam_?

Victor answers, his voice low and breathy.

“ _Well_... that’s _actually_ why I called. You’ve been working _a lot_ lately. I thought I might help you…I dunno, _relax_ a little… I’ve _missed_ you, Jim... your _taste_...”

Jim smiles and leans on his knees, wanting to hide his face from anyone who might happen to walk by. His heart skips a beat; hearing Victor say he missed him melts his heart.

He sits back into the seat and glances at the bullpen. A few officers were typing away while a couple are fingerprinting a few perps. He leans on his desk with the phone pressed hard to his ear; he admits with a pitch in his voice.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.”

Jim quickly clears his throat and asks.

“Was there somewhere you wanted to meet?”

Victor replies salaciously.

“Well, Jim… I _was_ gonna _‘talk’_ to you at work... tell you what I have in store for you _next_ time I see you. You know, while you sat at your desk —or even better… _Harvey’s_ desk.”

Jim shakes his head and chuckles. He quirks an eyebrow and glances at Harvey’s door.

“You want me in Harvey’s office? That’s… _interesting._ Well….”

Jim looks at the few officers below. He knows none of them would just walk into the office. He stands and states.

“Okay, I’m headed inside.”

Jim opens the door. The moment he does, Victor clicks on the desk lamp.

“Hi, Jim.”

Jim stands awestruck at what he’s witnessing, a slow smile spreads across his face. He snaps out of his elation and quickly closes the door, locking it. He turns his head to smile at Victor, who’s sitting in Harvey’s chair looking pleased with himself.

Jim takes in the officer’s outfit he has on and shakes his head. He chuckles out.

"Well, this _is_ a _surprise._ ”

Victor rises from Harvey’s chair, slowly rounds the desk and approaches. He reaches behind Jim’s neck and growls in his ear.

“Hopefully, a _nice_ surprise.”

Jim shivers at Victor’s deep sultry voice, his warm breath penetrating deep in his ear. He clutches at Victor’s shirt, his excitement spiking quickly. He rakes his eyes up and down Victor in the officer uniform. Jim lets go of the shirt collar to allow his hands to travel to Victor’s face. He gingerly cups the pale smooth cheeks of his lover and whispers.

“Every time I see you it’s a nice surprise. Also, every time I see you, I swear you get hotter. This —uniform…”

Jim chuckles and inhales slowly.

“It looks so fucking _amazing_ on you.”

Victor slowly stretches a wide grin before suggestively replying.

“Then I’ll be sure to keep it on.”

Zsasz quickly presses his lips to Jim’s, opens wide and shoves his tongue into his mouth.

Jim meets Victor’s mouth and moans softly. He still finds it hard to understand what it is about Victor’s lips that makes them so sweet. He wraps his arms around Victor and pulls his lips away with reluctance.

“So, Officer Zsasz, what am I being detained for?”

Jim smiles. Zsasz stretches a huge grin in response, before biting his lip and looking Jim up and down. He arches a brow, grasps Jim’s cock through his pants and starts slowly rubbing.

“Well, _definitely_ for seducing criminals…”

Jim rests his hands on Victor’s waist and leans into the rub. His lips barely touch Victor’s as he purrs.

“Oh, well. I guess…”

Jim flicks out his tongue and licks at Victor’s lips and continues.

“...I’m guilty on _several_ counts. What’s my punishment, officer?”

“Oh no, Jim Gordon. _I’m the one_ asking the questions here.”

Victor removes his hand from Jim and immediately loosens Jim’s tie. He slides his hands beneath the lapels of the detective’s jacket and slips it off, tossing it over a guest chair before quickly unbuttoning the man’s shirt.

Jim’s breathing gets away from him as Victor proceeds to relieve him of his clothing. He reaches up a hand and caresses down from Victor’s chest to his belt buckle.

“Very well. What if I refuse your _line_ of questioning?”

Victor leans in and smiles dangerously.

“Then I guess you’ll have to deal with _bad_ cop.”

Zsasz yanks Jim’s shirt from his pants and quickly reaches around to grab Jim’s entire ass and pull him close. Victor’s already half hard with excitement. He’s been _aching_ to feel Jim against him again. He tangles his fingers into Jim’s perfectly coiffed hair with the other hand and yanks his head back. Zsasz flicks his tongue along Jim’s neck and sinks his teeth into it.

Jim lets out a shaky gasp when he feels Victor’s hand on his ass. His erection full and at the ready as soon he feels Zsasz’s teeth sink into his neck. He grasps onto Victor’s shoulders to press his body closer; he's felt starved of his touch.

Victor growls as he rakes his teeth along Jim’s neck. He hungrily paws at Jim’s ass and discovers his handcuffs. He unlatches them from Jim’s trousers and attaches them to his own. Zsasz grabs Jim’s dangling tie, quickly pulls it up from the collar and twirls his hand into it until it’s wrapped tightly around Jim’s bare neck. He yanks the smaller man close to his face and growls.

“Come with me.”

Jim’s body burns hotter than he’s ever felt before. Victor latching onto his tie and tightening it fills him with anticipation. He wants to experience once more the euphoric sensation of asphyxiation while he climaxes. He follows compliantly, completely mesmerized by Victor’s fierce dark eyes.

Victor yanks and drags Jim around to the other side of Harvey’s desk, never releasing his neck. Zsasz eyes him up and down before flashing his eyes and snarling.

“Take off your clothes.”

Jim winces as the tie bites into his neck. He tries to keep up as Victor drags him to Harvey’s desk. He shudders at the fierce tone of Victor’s command to get naked. He blushes, feeling dirty and guilty for doing this in the captain's office. He’s unable deny their forbidden affair and carrying it on in Harvey’s office only makes it all too delicious.

Jim shrugs out of his loose shirt. He glances up at Victor but immediately turns his attention to his belt. He unlatches his badge along with his gun holster and places them on the desk. He glances at Victor and continues with his belt buckle. He flips the buckle open and works on his pants buttons and zipper. Once he unfastens his pants, he hooks his thumbs below the waist of both his boxers and pants. Jim opts to kick off his shoes first. He then slowly starts removing his pants and boxers.

Victor watches with rapt attention as the detective undresses, his hunger growing and breathing accelerating with every article Jim removes. He’s been _dying_ to get Jim naked again. Zsasz’s hardened cock is practically tenting his uniform pants. Jim’s only remaining article is his undershirt, which he can’t remove as long as Victor has him by the neck.

Zsasz takes his free hand and quickly reaches for his combat knife slicing the shoulders from it. He watches the shirt descend slightly before catching on Jim’s pecs. He returns his eyes to Jim’s and snarls.

“ _All_ of them.”

Jim heart races when Zsasz reaches for his knife. The feel of the cold metal on his shoulders sends a shiver of delight through him. The tension on the tie around his neck increases with Victor’s demand.

He shimmies out of the sliced undershirt by pulling it down to his hips where his pants and boxers are hanging. Once collected, he then pushes them all down. With the tie still in Victor’s iron grip, Jim finds leaning over difficult. He feels Victor give him some slack so he can remove his collected garments past his thighs. He kicks away the last of his clothes as they fall to his feet. He quickly yanks off his socks and tosses them on the pile. He stands upright and smiles.

Victor rapaciously ogles Jim’s body. He yanks Jim closer and purrs in his ear.

“I’ve missed seeing you like this.”

Jim leans in pulling Victor to him by his waist. He plants a rough kiss on his lips then grins up at him.

“Well, you have me naked and at work. Now what?”

Victor stretches a lecherous smile.

“Show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”

Jim grins and his eyes narrow at Victor’s first dirty demand. He yanks his tie out of Victor’s grip and makes his way to Harvey’s desk. He pushes a calendar, in/out paperwork trays and various other office supplies out of the way with one violent swipe of his arm.

Jim sits down on the cool smooth surface and plants his feet in Harvey’s chair. He leans back onto his left palm. He turns his head and smiles at Victor. Jim then turns his attention to his throbbing hard-on and takes himself into his right hand. He quickly glances at Zsasz and quips.

“You just want to see how I _handle you_ so well.”

Victor is transfixed as Jim shamelessly fondles himself atop Harvey’s desk, absently nodding in agreement.

“Uh huh.”

Jim licks his lips and begins stroking himself softly at first. The kinky factor of doing it on his best friend’s desk makes his erection pulse and throb in his hand.

He grasps himself a bit firmer and collects his precum into his hand. His hips start to slowly thrust up into his lubed fingers. His buttocks flex and slide on the desk as his soft undulations start picking up speed. He descends on his elbow and forearm, resting his head on his left shoulder. He closes his eyes feeling a wave of pleasure and guilt for committing the deviant act at work.

As Jim languidly leans on his left shoulder and closes his eyes, Victor walks to Harvey’s chair and slides his hand beneath Jim’s closest calf. He lifts it so he can access the chair and seat himself between the detective’s legs to continue watching.

Jim opens his eyes when he feels Victor move in between his legs to sit in Harvey’s chair. He places his feet on the armrests of the leather chair, spreading his legs apart to accommodate Zsasz. He scoots his ass closer to let Victor get an up-close view. His stroking picks up speed. He leans his head back on his shoulder, his attention below on his task. He starts with a light twisting motion around his shaft; it’s barely a flick of his wrist. He then pushes his cock down and speeds up his stroking twists. He moans and bites his lower lip, his gaze stuck on Victor’s mouth.

Zsasz is bewitched by Jim and his body involuntarily twitches in response. He impatiently reaches between Jim’s knees to grab his haunches, spreading the man’s legs further apart with his elbows and forearms. He yanks Jim closer to the edge of Harvey’s desk and quickly rolls the chair right up it, eyes flashing.

“I wanna _taste_ you.”

Jim quickly gets back onto both palms when he feels himself yanked closer to the edge of the desk. He peers down at Victor’s head in between his legs; he hears his demand for a taste. Jim can feel his face flush hot; he moans, drunk on the thought of Victor’s lips on his cock.

His breathing already out of control, another moan escapes his lips.

“Yesss —taste me!”

Victor smiles as he slowly closes in. He licks a long stripe up Jim’s swollen cock before teasing the tip with his tongue. Zsasz opens his mouth wide and swallows Jim to the hilt, moaning as he nudges his crotch. Jim’s pubic hair tickles his nose as he takes in the heady scent and the tip of Jim’s dick nudges the back of his throat.

Jim leans back on both palms, throwing his head back. He lets out a low moan when Victor’s hot mouth envelops him. The feel of his wiggling tongue and the soft scrape of teeth sends him into ecstasy. He starts rolling his hips to relish the feel of the back of his throat. Jim can feel himself slipping away as thick sweet lips wrap tightly at the base of his cock.

“Oh Victor, god you’re so fucking good!”

Zsasz begins sucking Jim in earnest. He hums as he bobs up and down on Jim’s dick, sucking harder and occasionally tugging side to side as he pulls back. He groans as he hungrily takes Jim and claws his fingers into his ass.

Jim loses control and strength in his arms. He slumps down onto the desk, his hips thrusting harder into Victor’s mouth. The greedy way his hands clench at his ass only spurs him on. He lets out a whimper.

“Oh —god... _Victor!_ ”

The moment is broken with a knock at the door. Jim freezes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* *cue the dramatic music*
> 
> Hey. *shrugging* Don’t get mad at me. FC was the one who thought we should stop things here! :D
> 
> As usual, Deya, it’s all your fault because I refuse to accept responsibility for any of this. *sheepishly smiles and looks from side to side*
> 
> There’s more ahead. Let’s just say things are about to get pretty interesting. As Deya suggested in her endnotes a couple of chapters back, our tale takes some surprising turns. 
> 
> For those who caught Victor’s thought about “the shit Bullock pulled during their last meeting”, you didn’t overlook anything in Boxcutter. It’s a reference to FC’s spin-off fic in the works. It explores Harvey’s POV about all Jim’s behavior in Boxcutter and it’s juicy. Be on the lookout for it. I, for one, am pretty stoked about it! :3
> 
> FC’s probably gonna make a collection dealie that includes all the Boxcutter-related fics. She’s also hammering out a post Boxcutter Jim goes vigilante fic. I had no plans to do a Victor POV fic, but having seen what FC’s workin’ on... I may have to seriously reconsider.
> 
> For those of you who’ve stuck it out this far, thank you! 
> 
> Besides, aren’t you dying to know what happens next? 
> 
> I can assure you should be. :3
> 
> WAIT! One more thing! My inspiration for Zsasz in a GCPD uniform? Well, you can thank the phuccin' aMAzing JokesterWrites' "Happy Halloween Boss", which just happens to be one of my favorite Zsaszlepot fics. And, if any of y'all are familiar with my, *clears throat* "proclivities", I am a wee bit of a Zsaszlepot shipper. GO READ IT if you haven't and JokesterWrites' other deliciousness. *titters with delight*
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> You are too amazing Jess! So prodding you into a full tale of love and drama wasn’t too hard :3
> 
>  
> 
> work place sex is hawt!!! Originally we were going to have this take place at the Iceberg lounge but because of Jim’s suspicious nature and the fact he would probably be on guard there we swapped it over to the GCPD. :3
> 
> Wish I had more to say but I’m exhausted with moving ! Please stick around. Relationship drama is sure to take place!
> 
> *drinks another beer*
> 
> ~FC


	15. Golden Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Victor continue with their sexual roleplay in Harvey’s office.
> 
> When things go too far, Jim misunderstands Victor’s intentions. The assassin is now faced with a tough decision.

“Uh...Y..YEAH?”

Victor stops momentarily and smiles despite Jim’s dick in his mouth. He shrugs and continues sucking him off.

Jim looks down at Victor who continues to suck on him despite the obvious situation at hand. He hears another knock.

“Detective Gordon?”

Jim places his hands on Victor’s head in attempt to stop him for a moment.

“Y-Y-Yes?”

The small female officer tries to open the door but its locked.

“Umm, I was wondering —can I come in? I had a question about a report.”

She tries the door knob again. Jim shouts out.

“No!”

Jim laughs; Victor starts to suck and wiggle his tongue vigorously. He tries to get Victor to stop but the man doesn’t seem to want to. He clutches Victor’s head and tries to dislodge his persistent lover.

“Detective?”

Despite his desire to continue, Victor momentarily stops and allows Jim an opportunity to answer the question. He pulls off of Jim and digs into his pocket for a small tube of lube for his fingers while Jim’s busy with the person at the door.

Jim huffs out a sigh of relief and then shouts back at the door.

“I-I’m in the middle of a call; can you please just get with me tomorrow?”

The female offer lets the door knob go and shrugs.

“Okay. Sure! Sorry!”

Jim turns his attention to Victor, shakes his head and smiles.

Zsasz gazes back up at Jim, nudging his hand between his legs and teasing his entrance with a finger. Victor slowly slides in as he takes Jim deeply back into his mouth again, synchronizing his movements.

Jim exhales a deep moan, his excitement intensifies with the addition of a finger.

“Oh...fff—uck!”

Jim begins thrusting onto the finger and deeper into Victor’s mouth. He bites his lower lip and says between moans.

“I love the way you question me, Officer Zsasz.”

Jim chuckles as he brings up a hand to Victor’s head.

Zsasz purrs at Jim’s praise. He sucks harder and slides in another digit —once more timing the two actions into a seamless maneuver.

Jim settles back onto the desk and lets out a shaky gasp when he feels another finger go in.

Victor changes his rhythm. He switches from his quicker, shallower movements and slows them, deepening them. Once more, he swallows Jim completely and nudges his nose against his body before pulling off of him.

Zsasz lowers his mouth and begins flicking his tongue between Jim’s legs as he spreads them further apart. He descends lower to lick Jim’s balls as he slips deeper inside, curling his fingers. Once he arrives at Jim’s sweet spot, he gazes up at him and begins rubbing.

“I’ve missed being inside you.”

Jim runs a hand through his hair and looks down at Victor as he works his fingers deep inside of him. He lets out a moan between his rapid panting, his voice a pitch higher as he gasps out.

“Victor! Oh god, yes there! I’ve missed you inside me. Fuck me — _please!_ ”

Jim grabs at his own hair at his temples and rolls his hips hard onto Victor’s hand.

Victor painstakingly licks a long stripe beneath and around Jim’s balls, up his shaft to the tip of Jim’s cock. He teases the tip again, before adding the third finger and swallowing Jim. He alternates between sliding in and out of the man, stimulating his prostate and sucking him harder.

Jim feels the warmth spread deep inside him. His muscles start contracting harder. He shakes his head from side to side unable to control his own excitement, his hands shoot down to Victor’s head. His hips thrusting faster into his mouth; he lets out a whimper.

“I’m going to cum fast if you keep this up!”

Victor immediately stops. He pulls off and out of Jim, smiling as he slowly rises from the chair. He leans over the desk, grabs Jim’s hair and pulls him close to his face. He looks down at the detective’s swollen cock, then back into his eyes, before swiveling his head and replying in a stern, measured tone.

“Well. We can’t have _that_ now. Can we?”

Victor reaches for Jim’s forgotten tie on the desk, tucks it in his back pocket and drags Jim off the desk by his hair.

Jim cringes as soon Victor’s hand shoots out to grab his hair, yanking him off the desk. His hands dart out and wrap around Victor’s wrist. His eyes begin to water as the sting spreads through his head.

Victor tightens his grip in the dark blonde hair as he drags Jim around to the other side of Harvey’s desk. When he arrives at the chair to which he added the restraints, he releases Jim, nods towards it and growls.

“ _Sit_.”

Jim straightens up and smiles, his hair flopping over his eyes once the hand disappears. He plops into the seat and gives Victor a hungry look, relishing his dominance.

At this point, he wouldn't care if Harvey and the commissioner walked through the door; his focus is entirely on Victor.

Zsasz nods down, before rearing back his hand to slap Jim’s handsome face.

“Put your ankles in those restraints.”

The quick connection of Victor’s hand to his face nearly spins Jim out of the chair. Once the shock of the slap wears off, he nods his head in compliance. He takes a deep breath in and leans over. He notices the black leather restraints at both legs of the chair. He wraps each cuff around his ankles, securing the buckles tight. He sits up and gives Victor a narrowed glance.

Victor wistfully sighs and smiles down at the detective, caressing the area he just slapped. Zsasz softly cards his hand through Jim’s mussed hair and leans down to plant a deep open-mouthed kiss on him, moaning as his tongue probes deeply inside.

Jim reaches for Victor’s face and shoves his tongue into his mouth. His erection throbbing with renewed interest.

Victor reluctantly pulls away from Jim’s hungry mouth and rises. He’s painfully hard. He reaches for his belt and painstakingly unfastens it along with his uniform trousers before unzipping them. He pulls out his engorged erection and begins fondling himself.

Jim looks on with a smile when Victor unleashes his huge cock from his pants. He reaches out both hands and grabs Victor’s hips, pulling him closer to his mouth. He flicks out his tongue and laps at the head.

The assassin shudders the moment Jim takes a swipe. He’s been dying to feel Jim’s mouth again.

“Suck me.”

Jim moans softly.

“With pleasure —come here!”

Jim leans forward taking Victor into a hand. His tongue licking slow circles on the dewey head. Jim moans with pleasure as he swirls Victor’s flavor in his mouth. He then leans forward onto the head and takes it in, coating the tip in saliva. Jim brings his right hand up to the tip and collects the thick wetness to apply it down the large shaft. He reaches his left hand up and grabs Victor by the hip, he plunges forward taking more of him in.

He pulls back and gives him a few twisting strokes with his hand. He licks at the head as his hand works up and down the shaft. He opens wide and slides down till Victor is at the back of his throat and beyond. He brings his left hand up and reaches into Victor’s pants. His hand finds its prize: firm testicles. His fingertips begin stroking in a feathery motion all around the taut skin.

Victor dreamily gazes down as Jim masterfully works him, before closing his eyes and craning his head back. It falls slack against his shoulders as he pumps into Jim’s hand and the velvety heat of _that_ _fucking_ _mouth_. Zsasz grunts and twitches in response to Jim’s soft strokes.

Jim quickly releases Victor from his mouth as he gasps for air. A thick string of saliva from the tip of Victor’s cock to Jim’s mouth settles down his chin, dripping down onto his lap. He works Victor with his right hand, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath.

Jim lifts up Victor’s erection and leans in to lick at his balls. His left hand holds them gingerly as his tongue works soft circles all around the thick skin. He then pulls back and takes Victor back into his mouth. He pushes forward till his nose is pressing into Victor’s body. Jim slowly shakes his head from side to side as his tongue wiggles on the back of Victor’s shaft.

Victor bites his lower lip as he watches Jim. He cards both hands slowly through Jim’s hair, down the sides of his face and onto his shoulders, before reaching for one of his hands. Victor takes it and maneuvers it to the arm of the chair, using his other hand to secure Jim’s wrist in the wrist restraint and buckle him in. Zsasz repeats the process with Jim’s other hand.

Jim pulls back slowly from his task and gasps for air. He chokes in large breaths through his mouth, his chest heaving rapidly. Thick strings of spit and precum drip down his chin and down his neck. He blinks tears away and gazes up at Victor.

Victor’s brow softens and jaw slackens at the sight of the mighty Jim Gordon, naked, bound, hair mussed and chin slick from his dick having been in his mouth. He caresses Jim’s face and sighs.

“You’re perfect. I wish you could see yourself.”

Jim leans his face into the caressing hand and closes his eyes. He turns his head and plants a slow kiss on Victor’s palm. He turns his adoring gaze to dark watchful eyes while blinking more tears away. He then closes his eyes and nuzzles Victor’s palm.

Victor traces the trail of a single fallen tear with a finger, before slipping his cock back into the man’s mouth. He cards his fingers through Jim’s hair, softly grasps it and begins pumping.

Jim feels Victor’s tip pressing lightly to his mouth. He straightens his neck and welcomes him in. His tongue wiggles on the back of his cock as it slips further in. He flicks the head as it pulls back out of his mouth. He tries to reach for it but forgets his hands are bound. He leans back on the chair, Victor follows with his steady thrusting.

Victor continues chasing the exquisite heat of Jim’s mouth. When he feels the deep warmth spread past his hips, he’s surprised by the warmth spreading in his chest. He peers down at Jim and feels a swell of something that unnerves him. Zsasz crinkles a brow and blinks in confusion. Despite his efforts to rein the feeling in, it builds. He presses his lips together and shakes his head.

 _Just don’t look at him_.

Victor quickly removes his hands from Jim’s hair and pulls himself out of the man’s mouth. He releases his wrists from the restraints and squats to free his ankles. Zsasz runs his fingers through the detective’s hair and draws him forward before pressing his lips to Jim’s, squeezing his eyes shut.

Jim gasps for air again when Victor removes his cock from his mouth. He watches as his leg restraints are removed. He wipes his face with the back of his freed hand. He feels the gentle caress of fingers go through his hair, then large warm lips on his own. He feels a moment of weakness; he wants to confess to Victor what he feels for him. Jim wraps his arms around his neck and mutters between kisses.

“Victor…”

“I…”

Jim doesn't finish his sentence, but instead shoves his tongue into Victor’s mouth. There are so many things he wants to say to the man in his arms. Jim opts to show Victor through his actions instead.

Victor clenches his jaw at Jim words, curiosity and dread blooming simultaneously in his chest. Zsasz slumps his shoulders in relief when Jim silences himself by pressing his lips against him. When the worrisome warmth in Victor’s chest returns, he furrows his brow and quickly pulls away, averting his gaze. He forces himself to shift his attention and approach.

 _Just don’t look at him_.

Zsasz presses his lips together, turns his face to the side and slips his arms beneath Jim’s. He rises from his squatting position and guides Jim up. Once he has the man standing, Victor takes his wrist and walks him to Harvey’s loveseat. He positions Jim so that he’s mercifully facing away from him with his knees flush against the furniture, as he blinks and struggles to school his face. This time, when he addresses Jim, his voice hasn’t the same bite.

“Get on the loveseat. On your knees.”

Jim wants to look back at Victor but stops himself. His heart races at his near blunder of a confession just a minute ago. He can hear the difference in Victor’s voice when he commands him to kneel on the loveseat. He’s sure that Victor’s grateful that he stopped himself from saying anything further. He swallows and takes a deep breath before doing as commanded.

Jim leans forward and places his hands on the backrest of the small couch. He scoots onto the cushion in a kneeling position.

Victor addresses Jim again —this time, more sternly.

“Hands behind your back.”

Jim brings his left hand over then his right. He peers over his left shoulder at Victor for just a moment and smiles. The over-the-shoulder grin shores Victor’s resolve. He tightly cuffs Jim in the order he offers his wrists.

“I’m placing you under arrest.”

Victor gets down on a knee behind Jim. He reaches around Jim’s left leg (just above his knee) to drag it closer to the edge of the loveseat. Victor uses his other hand to guide Jim’s left ankle upward behind his thigh, so that his calf is almost flush against his hamstrings. He presses his chest against Jim’s raised shin to secure it upward, as he reaches for the length of hemp rope with the other hand. Victor loops it several times to bind Jim’s left leg behind him, before looping the end through to secure behind his knee and keep it from slipping.

Jim peers back over his shoulder and grins like a cat.

“That’s quite the restraint, Officer. Keeps me in a very _compromising_ position.”

“You’re a flight risk. We have to take every precaution.”

Victor places his hand on Jim’s shoulder and maneuvers him so his chest is resting against the back of the loveseat before repeating the process with Jim’s right leg.

Zsasz runs his hands up Jim’s thighs, then drags them around his haunches, sliding beneath Jim’s ankle and up until his palm arrives at Jim’s buttock. He kneads it firmly, rears back his hand and lands a punishing blow. Jim’s ass ripples in response.

Jim lets out a loud grunt at the stinging contact. He looks back at Victor and offers a satisfied grin. He loves how heavy-handed Zsasz’s slaps are.

“I don’t remember butt slapping as part of the restraint process, officer.”

Victor leans into Jim’s ear, trying to remain in character. He stifles a chortle at Jim’s cheeky quip.

“Sometimes we have to resort to enhanced methods for uncooperative suspects.”

He rears back his hand again and lands another blow.

Jim sees Victor’s hand rear back and braces himself. This time, Zsasz rears it back so far that, once the blow makes contact, the smack crackles in the air. Jim is sure if anyone passed by, they would’ve heard it. Once the painful sting settles, Jim lets out a small growl under his breath, clenching his teeth. He rests his forehead on the backrest and offers a cheeky response.

“Mmm, that was a good one.”

Victor smiles down at the naked and restrained, but still _very_ spirited Jim Gordon. Zsasz reaches for his belt. He slowly slides it from his waist and loops it over end to end. He cracks it loudly before dragging it over and across Jim’s stinging red ass. He draws back the belt across his body, so that it dangles over his opposite shoulder and lands punishing backhanded blow against Jim’s other buttock.

Jim lets out a loud hiss; that one actually hurt —badly. He flinches in his binds and turns to look Victor in the eye. He smiles and says through rough breaths.

“That’s more like it.”

Zsasz groans lustfully and his dick twitches at Jim’s impudence. He bends down to lick and bite along the raised welt the belt left behind before rearing back and landing another blow against Jim’s other buttock.

Victor’s mouth on his tender sore ass sends a rush of goosebumps down Jim’s legs. He chuckles under his breath and rolls his forehead on the backrest cushion. Then he feels the searing sting of another smack. He cries out a bit louder this time.

“Fuck!”

Victor growls.

“Oh, I _plan_ to.”

Zsasz rears back the belt and lands two criss-crossing blows in quick succession.

Jim buries his face in the cushion as he grunts loudly. He turns his face to the right and tries to catch his breath. His muscles tense from the punishing smacks; he’s sure his ass is bright with red welts. He can feel his cheeks burning hot. He says through rough breaths.

“You have a way with _pain_ and pleasure.”

Victor leans into Jim’s haunches. He flattens his tongue and drags it painstakingly slow across Jim’s red lashes, before lowering it to lick up and down Jim’s perineum (between his dangling balls and asshole). He continues dragging his tongue downward and flicks across Jim’s balls.

Jim shudders when he feels Victor’s tongue on his sensitive skin. Then he feels the warm wet heat of his tongue on his testicles. He exhales raggedly and mutters.

“Yes, Victor.”

Zsasz continues. He leans in further and nudges his mouth beneath the bound man to take Jim’s balls in his mouth. At the same time, Zsasz reaches up and drags his hands up Jim’s thighs. He begins kneading his haunches, still holding the belt in one hand. After releasing the man’s balls, Victor flicks his tongue and nips around his ass, before sinking his teeth into Jim’s left buttock.

Jim buries his face in the cushion again to keep from shouting and alerting anyone walking by to investigate. He whines when Victor releases his balls from his mouth. He feels a slick wet tongue on his stinging ass cheeks again. He smiles as the goosebumps return. The pleasure cut short with the presence of teeth that sink deep into his left butt cheek. He quickly turns his head and lets out a shaky gasp. He tries to pull his ass away from the fierce bite.

Victor keeps his teeth on Jim, but slightly slackens his jaw to briefly flick his tongue against Jim’s ass. After withdrawing his mouth, he slowly tongues the indentations. Victor drops the belt to the floor and begins rubbing his hardened cock against Jim, gliding up and down his gluteal cleft (between his ass cheeks).

Jim turns his head when he feels Victor press his swollen cock onto him. He bites his lower lips and moans out.

“Going to punish me another way?”

Jim rolls his hips as much as he can and grins back at Victor.

Victor slowly traces his fingers along Jim’s marred backside before reaching for the small tube of lube in his pocket. He lubes his aching cock, moaning as he takes it in his hand before nudging a digit into Jim. He slips it in slowly and deeply, gradually swirling and curling down to find Jim’s prostate. Once there, he slowly rubs and stirs.

The feel of Victor’s finger inside of him, swirling and searching, makes Jim cry out in pleasure. He flinches in his binds wanting to touch Victor. He moans and buries his face back into the cushions.

Once Victor sees Jim flinch and twitch in his binds, he slips in a second digit and begins slipping his fingers in and out. The entire time, he ensures his cock brushes against and lightly prods against Jim’s haunches.

“You feel good.”

Jim turns his face out of the cushions to take in easier breaths. He can feel his own cock throb and jolt with the addition of another finger. He turns his face to look at Victor. The tall man’s face slack as his eyes focus on the prodding fingers. Jim can feel Victor’s erection tap against his body. He can see Victor’s getting really excited to plunge himself deep inside of him.

Jim feels the sweet sensation of the rolling contractions as a warmth deep inside starts to spread.

Victor’s hips have already begun pumping. He nudges his erection against Jim’s haunches, synchronizing his hips with his fingers’ rhythm and movement. As Victor slips in a third finger into Jim, he feels a surge through his shaft. His arousal twitches with the anticipation of entering the bound man. Victor groans, low and breathy.

“I _can’t wait_ to fuck you again.”

Jim can feel the sweet orgasm of prostate stimulation not far off. His heart racing while his breaths are deep and erratic. He can feel his muscles stretch and loosen with Victor’s fingers. The third finger nearly sends him over the edge. He starts grinding back on Zsasz.

“There —oh god!”

“You like that?”

“Yes — _there!_

“You gonna cum for me, Jim?”

“Yes, _Victor!_ ”

“I want you to.”

Jim looks back at Victor and smirks. He continues his undulations onto Victor’s fingers. He then says through rapid breaths.

“I want you to choke me first.”

Victor stretches a big, wolfy smile.

“Gladly.”

Victor withdraws his fingers from Jim and bends down to pull Jim’s dangling tie from the back pocket of his descending uniform trousers. Zsasz quickly wraps it around Jim’s neck, curls his hand into it and begins pulling it taut. He lines his dick up to Jim’s anus with his other hand.

Jim watches as Victor retrieves his tie. He inhales sharply when Victor quickly wraps it taut around his neck; then the steady pressure. His own erection throbs up and down with anticipation. He can feel the heat of Victor’s tip at his hole.

Victor groans loudly at the sublime sensation of breaching Jim. He’s been waiting for this —the slow, gradual stutter and drag of his cock as it fills Jim’s tight heat. As Zsasz sinks further inside, he gradually tightens the grip around Jim’s neck.

Jim gasps out when he feels Victor begin to fill him. He can feel his small muscles quiver with the strain, he inhales sharply as the exquisite pain grips him. His breaths are coming fast and shallow as the tie around his neck keeps getting tighter. His head starts to get light and his vision darkens. Jim gasps out in barely a whisper.

“W-w-waffles.”

Victor immediately slackens his grip and stops.

“ _Jim?_ ”

Jim gasps out as he rests his head on the cushion, fighting the urge to pass out. He can hear Zsasz call out his name with a bit of concern. He’s unable to respond just yet. He catches his breath for a few moments then nods at Victor. He croaks out.

“Keep going.”

Zsasz leans down and nuzzles Jim’s neck before planting a kiss and a nibble in Jim’s high taper. He wraps his fingers into the tie and gradually tightens the grip before sinking further into Jim.

“You feel _so good_ inside.”

Jim starts slowly thrusting his hips onto Victor, feeling him sink in deeper. His body quivers when he feels Victor rub and throb on his sweet spot. The pressure at his neck not as tight as before, but still tight enough to make him struggle a bit for deeper breaths. He moans and whispers.

“You’re so _amazing._ ”

Victor soon fills Jim to the hilt and begins pumping him in earnest. As he thrusts into Jim, he runs his free hand along the man’s ass. A barely audible whisper escapes Zsasz.

“So are you.”

Jim can feel his body shudder and quake; he flinches in his ropes, desperate to touch Victor. His erection throbs as the contractions of the pending release begins to crest. Victor’s body slaps into him faster and harder; he can barely keep himself on his knees. He buries his face into the cushions as rapid moans and grunts escape his lips. His mind and body a chaotic mess from the different sensations all over.

Victor’s mesmerized by the sight as he pistons in and out of the smaller man. His jaw slackens, drunk on pleasure. Zsasz’s tempo accelerates as he pounds harder, hypnotized by the rhythmic slapping against Jim’s ass. He watches Jim’s toes curl and haunches ripple with every thrust.

Before long, Zsasz unsheathes his combat knife with his free hand and slices through the binding between Jim’s right leg, then left, both falling to the seat once freed. Victor resheathes his knife and reaches for the handcuff keys to free Jim before releasing his grip around the tie. After Jim adjusts and regains his footing, Victor quickly turns the man around to face him.

“I wanna watch you cum.”

Jim wraps his arms around Victor’s neck and presses his body to him. He frowns when he feels all the clothes still on Victor.

“You need to take all of this _off_.”  

Jim traces his hand up towards the tie Victor has on. He slowly loosens the knot and whips the tie off. He quickly works all the buttons off the shirt, pulling the tucked-in portion out to finish the last two buttons. Once done, he flicks the shirt open and smiles up Victor.

Victor reaches into the detective’s hair and draws him up to his mouth, forcing his tongue deeply inside Jim, before wrapping his other arm tightly around him. He quietly moans the moment he feels Jim’s bare chest against his own, his nipples hardening.

Jim pulls from Victor and beckons him onto the love seat as he stands.

“Lay down.”

Victor stretches a wide toothy grin. He crouches down, unlaces his boots and removes them, kicking them to the side. He steps on the toes of his socks to slip them off and yanks down his pants to step out of them while he removes the uniform shirt and tosses it to the floor. He quickly plops onto the loveseat, lying recumbent the best he can —with one foot planted on the floor and his other leg draped over an arm of it.

Jim watches the comedic way Victor scrambles out of his clothing; he chuckles softly. The sexy sight of the completely naked, and gloriously erect, assassin on the loveseat spurs Jim to climb on top of him. He digs his right foot in-between the cushions off to the side of Victor then steadies himself with his left foot on the ground.

Jim takes Victor’s erection in his right hand and brings him back to his entrance. Jim raises up and slides down on the tip. As the large cock head slips past his muscle ring he lets out a soft moan. He then smirks down at Victor as he holds steady then slowly sits down till Victor is fully sheathed inside of him.

Jim places both of his hands on Victors chest and throws his head back, his body quakes.

“God you are so fucking big!”

Victor’s transfixed at the sight of Jim straddling and mounting him. His hips involuntarily jerk when Jim slowly takes him. Once Victor feels Jim’s ass nudge against him, he looks up and reaches for Jim’s lips. He slowly glides down to his chin, then down his neck and chest before slowly descending to his hips and grabbing his ass. Victor begins hungrily thrusting up into Jim as he greedily digs in his fingers.

Jim gasps out and smiles as Victor starts pounding into him. He times his motion with Victor’s. He leans back and rolls his hips back and forth. The large cock resuming its friction against his prostate, Jim inhales sharply and looks down at Victor. He opens his mouth as heavy breaths escape his lips, his senses gone to the moment. Jim digs out his right foot from the cushions and places his foot against the headrest near Victor’s head.

Jim continues to roll his body back and forth in deep motions to feel the hardness move and throb deeper and harder inside of him.

Victor can already feel the exquisite pressure building within him. He looks down at his cock, pistoning in and out of Jim. A groan escapes his slackened jaw. He reaches for Jim’s bouncing and neglected one and begins working it.

“I want you to cum for me.”

Jim looks down as Victor grips his erection. He stops bouncing on his cock and rolls his hips in slow back and forth swirls. He barely registers the command, he’s caught up with the sensation of his Victor’s hand on his dick and the feel of the coming abdominal contractions. He tilts his head and looks Victor in the eyes.

“I want to cum _all over you_.”

Victor moans at Jim’s libidinous utterance. Zsasz is so close to bursting himself, he can barely continue working Jim, his rhythm stuttering.

“That’s _it_ , Jim.

_All._

_Over._

_Me_.”

Jim closes his eyes as Victor’s hand strokes quicken on his cock. He leans back and continues rolling his ass onto Victor. He can feel his body heat spike hard, the pressure deep down building. His face flushes with heat as he loses himself in ecstacy.

He _needs_ Victor.

He only _wants_ Victor.

Jim’s muscles contract hard, he looks Victor in the eyes and utters.

“Victor…

...I…”

Jim gasps out as his orgasm begins to release. He’s enraptured by the sight of his cum drenching Victor’s chest and hitting him in the face. He throws his head back moaning and gasping large breaths of relief and satisfaction.

Jim’s hips continue to roll and stutter as he rides out the last of his ecstasy. He can feel Victor’s erection throb and pulse deep inside him. He quakes with bliss as the waves of pleasure slowly ebb.

Victor smile stretches impossibly wide as he gazes up at the delicious sight of Jim riding out his orgasm and copiously bursting everywhere. He begins rising off the loveseat and reaches for Jim whose head is tossed back with one hand and pulls him close, leaning into Jim’s ear.

“I’m not done with you, yet.”

Victor takes his other hand and reaches behind him to open up a tiny little slot for Jim to peek outside the blinds into the bullpen. He leans into Jim, growling salaciously.

“So, what do you think everyone out there would say if they saw _me_ balls deep in their _golden_ _boy?_ ”

Jim smiles when Victor sits up and pulls him in close. He leans in to kiss him but then he sees Victor open the blinds just a little, his heart stops.

When he hears Victor’s callously asked question, Jim’s body stiffens. He bows his head slowly; his chest tightens and his throat dries up. Guilt and shame come over him.

_All the lies upon lies…_

He looks away and stops smiling. He’s a few heartbeats away from running. He recoils his hands off of Victor; he can feel a small tremble begin to form in his legs.

The moment Jim goes rigid, averts his eyes and withdraws his hands, Victor realizes he’s made a grave mistake. He quickly closes the blinds, furrows his brow and clenches his teeth before rubbing a hand down his mouth. Zsasz tightly shuts his eyes and struggles to do something he _never_ does —at least not like _this_ anyway. His voice is wavering and uncertain.

“ _Jim_. _Wait._ I…”

Victor retracts his facial muscles and tightly presses his lips together. He furrows his brow and squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment before returning his gaze to Jim.

“I’m _sorry_.”

Jim takes a deep breath in and tries to steady himself. He keeps his gaze from Victor, wanting an answer before making any further decisions about his attachment to the assassin. His voice shaky as he whispers.

“Am I just something for you to amuse yourself with?”

Zsasz blinks and looks down, at a total loss in this completely foreign territory. Were Jim _any_ other person, the answer would be simple:

_Yeah. We’re just having fun. What’s the big deal?_

_This_ answer is not so simple. Victor’s now forced to face the fact he’s thought of little else beside Jim for the past several weeks. He struggles to answer. All his breeziness and bravado escape him.

Victor furrows his brow as he reaches for Jim’s chin. Zsasz grits his teeth, closes his eyes and briefly turns away before returning his eyes to Jim’s because it pains him to admit what he’s about to confess. He croaks.

“ _No_ , Jim. You’re… _more_ than that.”

Jim can scarcely believe his eyes and ears. The look on Victor’s face and the sound of his voice both equally unexpected as his words. He quickly wraps his arms around Victor’s neck, his heartache soothed by his confession.

_I’m not alone..._

He plants a soft kiss on Victor’s lips.

Jim then whispers.

“You’re more to me too.”

Jim holds his face in one hand and makes Victor look him in the eyes. He smiles and begins softly rolling his hips on him.

Shamefaced, Victor averts his eyes after his admission. His brow furrows and he blinks a few times before gazing back —uncertain how to proceed until Jim offers a reassuring smile and begins rolling into him. Zsasz’s shoulders subtly slump in relief. He pulls Jim close and kisses him deeply as he begins pumping in and out of him.

Jim picks up his speed and kisses Victor rougher. His teeth scraping Victor’s lips as he works down his jaw and to his neck. His teeth rake across smooth skin while sucking softly. He then unlatches his arms and mouth from around Victor’s neck and leans back. He gazes down at where they are connected at the hips. He watches as both their bodies thrust and undulate onto each other. The sight spurs him on, he lets out shaky moan.

“ _Victor!_ ”

Zsasz is intoxicated by Jim’s mouth and undulations. He looks down and watches his hips pump harder into Jim, the deep heat spreading low and even further beyond —up into his chest. He softens his brow and gazes deeply into Jim’s eyes, his lids hooded and jaw slack as he runs his fingers through Jim’s hair.

“Jim…”

Jim’s attention is pulled away from their bodies moving together in unison. He feels Victor’s hand through his hair. He looks up and moans. The breathtaking sight of Zsasz in the throes of ecstacy is something he never gets enough of.

Jim wraps his arms back around his neck and kisses him, never pausing from his rhythmic motions.

Victor’s soon overcome by his spasming muscles. He tightly draws Jim close and moans into his mouth as he thrusts deeply and spills abundantly inside him. His grasp on Jim is unyielding as he quakes and shudders, riding out the waves of pleasure. Once his trembling subsides, Victor withdraws from Jim’s mouth, still breathing heavily. He runs his hand alongside Jim’s face, brow softened, eyes rapidly tracking back and forth.

Jim takes Victor’s hand that’s on his face and holds it in place for a moment. His blue eyes searching the dark adoring pools of his lover. He wraps his arms tightly around Victor’s neck, pressing his forehead into the crook of his right arm. He takes in a long breath and exhales.

Jim grimly dwells on what it would mean if he lost Victor. He was headed down a dark and dangerous path before Zsasz found him. He recognizes he hasn’t been in a good way since losing Lee and gaining Carmine’s hatred. Also, recently, Harvey has become distant and stand-offish.

The only light in his dark and lonely world has been Victor.

But he knows damn well that holding onto him will only end horribly —for both of them.

Victor sighs as he pulls Jim closer and tenderly places a single kiss in his mussed hair.

“Uh oh. I messed up your hair. Ya think anyone will notice?”

Jim chuckles and pulls back. He looks towards the coat rack and sees that Harvey has an extra hat hanging there.

“I can wear a hat. I guess you’re the lucky one. You can just slip out the window.”

Jim smiles. Victor tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Who says you can’t slip out the window _with_ me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uhh… porn with Zsasz feelings?
> 
> As Deya suggested in her endnotes a couple of chapters back, our tale takes some surprising turns. 
> 
> You might remember my concerns about wading into Zsasz feelings. Suffice to say, this is when those feelings really become more apparent. It's no secret Victor Zsasz is my muse. I try hard to capture his spirit. Yeah, I know everyone puts their own spin on their muses, characters and stories. I also know it's our story and we can write it how we want and all, but I really wanted it to feel authentic and ring true for him. *crossing fingers it did* I'm just so f*cking fortunate and grateful my collab partner loves him as much as I do, possibly even more.
> 
> Anyway, enough of all that. More good sh!t to come, y’all. We hope you stick around.
> 
> Ah, and for those of you who have? I can't say this enough: thank you, kindly. Really. I can’t tell you how much it means. Honestly, I’ve never written anything with this breadth. I never knew I had it in me. Had it not been for the incredible FC, I never would’ve believed myself capable of it. 
> 
> I effin' love you, Deya. You are the wind beneath my wings and sh!t. 
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ——————
> 
> Awwwwwwwwwwwwww Jess! Love you too!
> 
> You know when we first talked about doing a collab I was working under the expectation (for myself) that this would be 100% porny. No real feelings or attachments or storyline.
> 
> I thought about it and I can totally see these two falling for each other. I think it makes more sense than Zsasz with Freeze ( my absolute favorite pairing before this collab). Zsasz and Freeze would have some sexual steam but I don’t see it really getting in depth or remaining viable for long.
> 
> Zsasz and Oswald—super hot and completely toxic. Oswald’s too clingy and Victor too detached. Not a great match up. (my opinions and perceptions of these two) BUT—makes for a very dramatic story.
> 
> Now Zsasz and Jim—both men with a sense of duty. Both are able to keep up with each other. Both would give each other the right amount of space and respect. But because they are on opposite sides of the law, their love affair can only crash and burn. But I find them a more believable pairing (as far as fanfics go).
> 
> *shrugs* Just my thoughts on Zsasz pairings. 
> 
> I know Jess had heartburn over making Zsasz too emotional but I think she pulled off his mental journey through the relationship beautifully. I think it felt like a good natural progression for the length of this story.
> 
> I had to ensure that Jim’s mental journey was rocky but at the same time make him enter into this relationship with reckless abandon. 
> 
> Having Jess run accountability with the believability of the story (as well as edits)—she’s the god damn foundation of this fic. 
> 
> All I do is instigate like a brat between our two characters hah :3
> 
> Thanks for reading. It means a great deal that you would join us in this tale XD


	16. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim frets over his attachment to the assassin. 
> 
> Victor receives a text that results in an unexpected road trip.

 

—>j<—

Early the next day, Jim walks through the doors of the precinct. He’s two hours early; the sun hasn’t crested over the skyline of the city yet. He remembered upon waking that he left Harvey’s office a huge mess. He and Zsasz escaped out the window last night, giving little care to anything else.

Jim’s carrying a small gym bag with cleaning spray and a few hand towels. He swiftly strides by the bullpen hoping no one deters him from his mission. The officers in the bullpen give a quick morning greet when they see him walk past. Jim curtly nods back. He turns his attention to his path and sees Harvey already at work. He’s shuffling to the door as he reads his newspaper.

Jim freezes.

A few long moments pass then a loud thunderous wail emanates from the open door.

“WHAT. DA. FU---------UCK?!!?”

The officers in the bullpen for the most part ignore the shout since their captain’s given to loud expletives no matter the time of the day.

Jim rushes to the office.

“Who _da’ fuck_ did this to my desk!? All my shit’s on the floor and —(sniffs a few times) what da hell is that _smell_?”

Harvey’s face is all scrunched and wrinkled in disgust. He walks around to his desk and shakes his head in horror. He drops his newspaper and covers his mouth like he’s going to be sick. He turns to Jim and gestures wildly down at the surface, his face turning beet red. He shouts.

“Someone had _sex —_ in my office! There’s _imprints_ of _buttcheeks_ on my _desk_ , Jim! Buttcheeks! On! My! _Fuckin'!_  Desk!”

Jim closes the door and locks it to keep any interested bystanders from coming in. He channels his high school acting class once again.

He approaches, giving his best shocked impression as he glances down at the desk surface. He can clearly see the marks left behind by his ass cheeks as well as the subtle imprint of his back. He can even see Zsasz’s arm and elbow prints. Jim forgets to keep his charade going as a huge smile creeps on his face.

Harvey barks at him.

“What are you smilin' 'bout?! It’s sick! And frankly, unprofessional!”

Jim raises an eyebrow and smiles bigger.

“What? My smiling?”

Harvey gives him a sour look and turns to open a window. He notices things are not as they should be and pipes up.

“Well, whoever did this came through the window. My ashtray is sittin' on the sidewalk below and there are boot prints on the window sill.”

Jim peers over Harvey’s shoulder, then walks around the office to make sure Victor didn’t leave anything behind. He sees nothing on the floor other than Harvey’s office supplies. He stops at the couch and notices all the stains. He grimaces then turns to Harvey.

“I’ll get some cleaning supplies. Open both windows; it’s ripe in here.”

Bullock nods and slides both glass panes up.

After wiping the leather couch and the desk down, Harvey’s outrage settles into a general unpleasantness. He dowses the entire office in disinfectant spray before beginning work for the day.

Jim exits the office and sits at his desk. His phone chimes with an incoming call; it’s his mother.

“Morning, mom.”

“Hey sweetie, just wanted to make sure you will be over for the get together next week.”

Jim smiles and starts shuffling inbox paperwork. He lays his phone on his shoulder and leans his ear to it.

“Yes, it’s all coordinated. I’ll be there the night before to help you set stuff up and cook. Need anything before I arrive?”

His mother chuckles and says.

“Why, yes. Bring your friend Victor. Inform him it’s next week so he has enough time to inform his boss. I don’t want excuses. Bring him and if he can’t come, I want him to call me to tell me why. Okay sweetie, you have a great day. I love you.”

Jim swallows and clenches his eyes tight. He then chuckles and shakes his head.

“I love you too, mom. I’ll call you before I leave Gotham.”

“Okay, honey.”

Jim leans back in his chair. He wonders what it’s like for someone like Zsasz to ask someone like Oswald for vacation days. Jim puffs out with amusement; he can’t even begin to comprehend what that scenario would look like. He chuckles and texts Victor.

“ _Still want to come along when I visit my mother?_

_I leave next week, Friday night._

_Figured you might want to_

_let your boss know ahead of time.”_

_“cool. k_

_wait_

_next Friday?_

_not sure if i can make it”_

_“Yeah._

_Ok. Well if you can’t come then you can’t come._

_But, my mother will like to hear it directly from you._

_As to why._

_So.”_

_“oh_

_i’ll figure it out_

_ttyl about details_

_tell her i’ll be there”_

 

_“Ok, talk to you later.”_

_“can’t wait_

_: )_

_bye”_

 

—>z<—

Victor is surprised to receive a text from Jim so soon after their rendezvous at the precinct, but even more so after discovering it was regarding the family get together. Zsasz has been excited at the prospect of meeting Mrs. Gordon, but began doubting anything would ever come of the invitation. Every time he brings it up, Jim always gets busy or starts talking about other things.

Later that evening, Zsasz approaches Penguin when he’s poring over swatches and design plans for the club with Ivy. The kingpin looks up quizzically.

“Wait. _You’re_ asking for time off?”

“Yeah. I gotta be outta town next weekend.”

Penguin raises a brow and nods.

“Of course. You must be visiting your bubbie.”

“No. I gotta go to a family get together.”

Penguin scrunches his face and tilts his head in confusion. He knows Victor’s parents are deceased and his bubbie is the _only_ family his henchman ever mentions. After brief consideration, he grants Victor his requested time off provided he makes himself available by phone in case he’s needed. Oswald scrupulously narrows his eyes as his enforcer strides out. He tilts his head towards the redhead as he continues looking out the door.

“Ivy, I have a job for you.”

Before Victor meets up with Jim to follow him to his mother’s, Zsasz decides to purchase her a gift. He recalls overhearing her discussing tea with Jim during their conversation, so he purchases an array of organic loose leaf teas: a couple of blacks (Ceylon and Keemun), a Phoenix Dancong oolong, a green (gyokuro) and a white with lychee. He also purchases a cardamom, clove and cinnamon tisane and stores them all in matte black tea storage containers. Zsasz also purchases her an extra fine stainless steel brewing basket and some nice rock sugar.

—

When next Friday finally rolls around, Victor pulls up to Jim’s apartment in a dark blue ‘67 Chevy Impala Super Sport, packed and prepared for their road trip. He also packed various tools of the trade just in case Penguin requires him to return to work unexpectedly.

Jim gathers his small suitcase and keys then checks his watch. Victor said he would be by exactly at four. That would put them at his mother’s house at seven in the evening. She wants them there for dinner. Jim begins thinking; he’s second guessing himself about bringing Victor. It weighs heavily on his mind. Every time Victor’s brought up going to see his mother, Jim has tried changing the subject or he wanted to talk about it later.

There are a couple of reasons he doesn’t want Victor to meet his mother. First and foremost is his concern about putting her in danger or being used as a token against him. Also, he knows Victor is a charming man and capable of winning over anyone who meets him.

He can see Victor gaining his mother’s quick approval and adoration in one night, if not sooner. That means she will keep asking Jim about Victor every time they talk. He’s been torn over ending things before they go too far.

_I’m just thinking too hard on this. Maybe I..._

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. He opens the door and lets Victor in.

Victor walks in with a huge grin. Once in the doorway, he leans down and reaches behind Jim’s neck to pull him close to his face. He looks down at Jim’s lips before gazing at him, eyes twinkling.

“Hi, Jim.”

Jim smiles and gives Victor a quick kiss. He turns back to gather his suitcase but pauses and looks back at Victor. He addresses the assassin with firm resolve.

“Zsasz, there’s something I need from you before we head out. I know you’re a man of your word, so I need a _promise_ from you.”

Victor can’t help but notice Jim just addressed him with his _surname_. He warily narrows his gaze and tilts his head before replying tentatively.

“Uhh… _Yeah?_ ”

Jim sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He leans back against the couch and gives Victor a hard look.

“Despite how I feel, _we_ feel, about each other. I’m not going to pretend that everything between us will remain as is. I believe it’s just a matter of time before we’re in contention with each other. Maybe even trying to _kil—stop_ one another.”

Jim’s brow furrows and he looks down. He takes a deep long breath in and continues.

“I need you to _promise_ me that, whatever happens to us, you _will never_ go after my mother. Even if Oswald demands any and all information to use against me, you will never put her in harm’s way. Can you _promise_ me this?”

Victor soberly nods.

“Of course.”

Jim clenches his jaw and gives Zsasz a wary look. After a few moments, he nods and gathers his suitcase and keys.

As Jim heads for the door, Victor reaches for his forearm and turns him around so that they’re facing one another. He furrows his brow and clenches his jaw as he looks Jim squarely in the eye, his response resolute.

“ _Jim_. _I give you my word_. She’s _off_ the table. _Period_.”

Victor takes Jim’s chin between his thumb and index finger, narrowing his gaze.

_“I_ _promise_.”

Jim’s concern eases; he takes in a long breath and nods. He looks up into Victor’s eyes and plants another kiss on his lips.

Jim presses his forehead to Victor’s and gently caresses his face. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. He exhales slowly, releasing his tension.

“I believe you.”

Victor strokes the side of Jim’s face and smiles.

“Lead the way.”

Jim throws his stuff in the trunk of his sedan and leads Victor out of Gotham. About an hour into the trip, he starts thinking about all the things that might go wrong with Victor at his mother’s house. Mainly, his own uncontrollable urges to touch, kiss and feel Victor when he’s around.

_Good God; this is going to be a rough weekend without sex. Maybe we can stop somewhere._

Jim sees a sign on the road for a motel about five miles away. Jim thinks on his decision till he notices the exit that he needs to take. He quickly puts his blinker on and takes the off ramp.

He pulls up to a small rinky motel, all the units make a “U” shape with a dirty pool in the middle. He stops in front of the office and gets out of his car. He waits for Victor to pull up.

Zsasz was looking forward to the drive since he rarely makes it out of the city. It gives him an opportunity to enjoy some music and have a much needed break from Penguin’s regular tantrums and Ivy huffing around. Pike and Fries don’t really do much talking, but he spends most of his time with Pepper when he isn’t doing stuff for Penguin.

Victor is certain they'll drive straight through without stopping. He figures Jim will approach the trip the same way he would —refusing to rest until his mission is complete. Zsasz would definitely drive straight through a three-hour trip, so he’s surprised when Jim pulls off the highway. It isn’t until Victor realizes where Jim’s heading that he bites and licks his lower lip in anticipation. He pulls his Impala up beside Jim’s sedan, face split wide in a big toothy grin.

Jim smiles at Victor when he exits his car.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have some _fun_ before we reach our destination? We might not be able to do anything when we're at my mother’s house.”

Jim smirks and blinks up at Victor.

Victor curls up the corner of his mouth as he grabs Jim’s ass and growls in his ear before biting it.

“Be right back.”

He strides into the motel and pays for a room. After returning outside, he tosses the room key to Jim, his smile knowing and lecherous.

“Twelve.”

Jim quickly scans the legend on the wall next to the office doors and locates the part of the “U” where room twelve is located. He smiles at Zsasz, walks across the parking lot and heads over to the room. He quickly unlocks the door and proceeds to enter.

Victor’s practically running Jim over to get into the room. He pushes Jim into it almost forgetting to close the door, kicking it shut with a foot. He immediately shrugs out of his shoulder holster and tosses it on a chair. He claws off his jacket and rips off his gloves.

Jim kicks off his shoes and whips off his t-shirt, jeans and boxers. He’s naked in less than one minute. He winks at Zsasz and heads to the bathroom to start a warm shower.

Jim’s been wanting to bring to life his first fantasy of Zsasz in the hot shower with him. His body is practically burning up thinking about it. His erection already full and throbbing as he enters the warm stream of water.

Zsasz unbuttons himself as little as necessary to remove his shirt. He unfastens his belt and begins lowering his boxer briefs and trousers when he remembers his boots. He crouches to unlace and pull them off as he stares at the magnificent sight of Jim Gordon, naked, soaking wet and erect. Victor finally yanks down his pants and steps out of the legs, almost forgetting his socks before hustling to the bathroom.

Jim turns and smiles at Victor as he steps into the shower stall with him. He brings his right hand to Victor’s chest and lightly ghosts his fingertips down his torso and abdominals. He lightly strokes near his cock then brings his fingers down to his upper thigh. Jim leans in and gives Victor a slow passionate kiss. He wraps his arms around Victor’s waist, his teeth and tongue exploring all over his mouth. He can feel Victor’s erection throb on him as hot water pools between their bodies, spilling over their arms. He brings his left hand around to Victor’s ass and gives his right buttcheek a firm grasp. Jim then chuckles into Victor’s mouth and pulls back.

Jim’s hungry mouth and the way he looks with water spilling down the planes of his face and body ignite Victor. He’s rock hard. Victor immediately begins grinding his hardened dick against Jim’s and closes his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of his exploring hand.

Jim moans with the feel of Victor’s slick wet body slipping and sliding on him as his cock thrusts against his body. He bites Victor’s lower lip letting it go slowly as he pulls back. He whispers huskily.

“The morning after I killed those traffickers, I masturbated in the shower while I thought of you. Now that I have you, I want to experience the real thing.”

Victor moans and breathes heavily at Jim’s confession. His cock twitches and heat flashes deep. He reaches for Jim’s wet hair and returns him to his mouth. Zsasz opens wide and plunges his tongue deeply into Jim, wantonly groaning as he does. He wrestles Jim’s tongue with his own, hungrily reaching down and grabbing at Jim’s ass, hips already pumping.

Jim pulls away slightly and gives Victor a look. He brings his hands back up to Victor’s chest. He starts sinking to his knees as his hands slowly follow his descent. He softly glides over Victor’s abdominal muscles and raised scars. He loves how hard and solid Victor’s body feels under his palms. He carefully situates himself on his knees on the wet floor, a soft moan escapes him when he’s finally eye level with Victor’s cock.

It always gives him pause when he gets an eye full of what Victor’s working with. He surmises he’s easily an eight and a half, possibly nine inches. His hands come to rest on Victor’s hips. The shower rains down on the body before him, water cascading around Victor’s erection and testicles. Jim looks up at Victor, the steam in the shower begins to fill the stall. He loves how Victor looks in the moment, wet and wanting.

Victor’s brow furrows and jaw slackens, groaning softly as Jim descends before him. His cock twitches and his hips subtly pump with excitement. Zsasz is staggered at how Jim looks on his knees, water spilling down his hair and running down that jawline, that nose and chin… those eyes… and that _fucking_ mouth he can _never_ stop thinking about or get enough of. Zsasz’s hips jerk at the thought of it swallowing him.

Jim takes Victor into his right hand and begins stroking him. He looks up into Victor’s eyes as he slowly pumps him, those focused dark pools already hazy. Victor’s already lost in his desire. Jim smirks as he turns his attention to the bouncing cock before him.

He takes a swipe at the head with his tongue. He stops stroking and wraps his mouth around the the tip. He strokes the head with the tip of his tongue, tickling his lover. He can feel Victor tremble and catch his breath in his throat. He releases the cock from his mouth. He gazes back up at Victor as he works him in longer firmer strokes.

A whispered curse escapes Victor’s lips as he shudders.

“ _Jim.._. _Fuck_.”

Jim smiles at Victor’s curse; it always pleases him when Zsasz becomes unraveled. He begins twisting his hand on the shaft. He leans in and takes the large blunt head into his mouth. He slowly inches forward, softly caressing the hard shaft with his whole tongue. He then plunges all the way forward, wrapping his arms around Victor’s upper thighs. He shakes his head from side to side as his tongue wiggles at the back of Victor’s dick. When he feels the cock deep in his throat, he starts sucking as best he can.

Victor closes his eyes and cranes his head back as Jim makes quick work of him with _that hand_ and _greedy fucking mouth_. He’s forfeit in the sensation of Jim’s tongue as it slides along his shaft and the way his cockhead bumps the back of his throat. Victor slips further and further as Jim wastes no time sucking him off. He can already feel his pleasure mount and the pressure build. Zsasz finds himself twitching and losing control of his hips. He won’t last long if Jim keeps this up.

Jim slowly releases Victor to catch his breath. He works his right hand in a gentle twisting motion up and down the shaft. He cranes Victor’s erection down and speeds up his strokes. He looks up at Victor’s face as he brings his left hand to caress his testicles. He can feel Victor twitch and shudder; he beams him a smirk.

Jim’s left hand then travels further in between Victor’s legs. His index and middle finger glide over his sphincter. Jim then plunges back onto his erection with his mouth, taking him to the hilt again. His fingers swirl and continue to tickle Victor’s tight muscle.

Victor smiles and softly shakes his head from side to side as he feels Jim reach further between his legs. It’s as if Jim read his mind. He planned to do the very thing to him and was already reaching to pull back the shower curtain for the small bottle of complimentary shampoo from the bathroom sink. He opens it and squirts some in his hand, struggling a little when Jim teases his asshole. The moment Jim takes him in his mouth, Zsasz squeezes his hand and sends the small bottle flying.

Victor reaches for Jim’s arm to lift him off his knees because he fears he may blow his wad at any moment.

Jim’s enjoying Victor’s shudders and twitches of pleasure as his mouth and hand lavish special attention to his cock and sphincter. He continues to suck harder, his nose pressing hard against Victor’s body. The fingers at Victor’s hole preparing to enter but instead he feels Victor’s hand on his arm.

Jim finds himself being lifted up, Victor’s cock slipping out of his throat and mouth. He stabilizes himself on his feet and gives Victor an amused look.

Victor smirks at the impudent man, before turning him around and pushing him up against the shower tiles. He briskly lathers the shampoo in his hands before slipping the fingers of one hand between Jim’s ass cheeks and reaching around to take his cock in the other. Zsasz synchronizes both hands: one glides between Jim’s buttocks, slipping in and teasing his asshole as the other firmly grasps Jim’s slippery dick. Victor greedily jerks Jim off, careful to avoid too much contact given how aroused and close to bursting he already is.

Jim feels himself pressed onto the wet tiles. He turns his head and smiles. Victor’s fingers tease and taunt him at his muscle. Jim bites his lip and loses himself as Victor’s slick hand works his erection. He starts thrusting slow and deep into the hand, a soft moan escapes his lips. He brings his hands up to the tile, laying his palms flat against the wall. He starts picking up speed. He urgently breathes out.

“Fuck — _Victor!_ ”

Victor pants heavily as he slides a digit into Jim, moaning slightly as he breaches him and feels Jim clench around his finger. When Jim begins to relax a little, he leans down and takes his ear into his mouth, breathing deeply and moaning softly before sliding in a second digit.

Jim lets out a shaky breath with the addition of a second finger. Victor’s mouth on his ear sends goosebumps down his arms. Jim reaches up with his hands, gliding them up the wall. He arches his back and pops his hips out allowing Victor better access to his heat.

Zsasz groans when Jim thrusts back and shamelessly offers himself. He carefully maneuvers himself down on a knee. Victor slips his fingers in and out a few more times before removing them. He takes Jim’s hips in his hands and licks up and down his gluteal cleft before nibbling along it.

Victor leans in for a soft bite and several flicks of his tongue. When he separates Jim’s ass cheeks, rivulets of water spill between them. Zsasz nudges in his tongue, taking a few long exploratory licks past the rinsing shampoo. Once Jim softly gasps, he plunges it deeply inside and teases Jim’s entrance, stimulating the sensitive nerve endings within its puckered flesh with his flicking tongue.

The feel of Victor’s tongue at his hole sends a wave of pleasure throughout his body. He leans his forehead on his left bicep and releases a loud shaky breath.

“Victor, that feels _so_ good!”

Jim places a hand on his erection and slowly strokes himself.

Victor continues rimming Jim until he feels his buttocks and thighs jerk uncontrollably. He replaces his tongue with his two fingers. Zsasz reaches in and curls his fingers to tease at Jim’s prostate. Once he finds it, he begins stirring and swiping at Jim’s balls with his tongue.

Jim feels a tongue replaced with two fingers that quickly enter him. He can feel Victor probe deep inside as he massages the sweet spot. He throws his head back and lets out a loud exclamation.

“Oh _fuck!_ ”

The tongue then finds his nutsack; he quakes when the soft warm appendage swirls and licks. He releases his erection and returns his hand to the wall. He can feel himself losing strength in his legs. He tightens his muscles around Victor’s fingers enjoying his presence deep inside of him.

Once Jim releases himself and begins to falter, Victor slips in a third finger. Zsasz moans as Jim’s muscles tighten around him. It’s as if his fingers are being sucked. Zsasz continues slipping in and out of Jim until he feels his inner walls relax and accept him more readily. As he does, he continues to swipe at Jim’s balls with his tongue —occasionally teasing beneath Jim’s ass with his teeth.

Jim lets out a loud hiss when teeth come out and sink into his butt. His muscles clench harder around the fingers. He rolls his head back and lets out a deep breath. Victor’s fingers stroking and wiggling on his prostate send a jolt of heat throughout his body. The start of the deep pressure and rolling contractions take hold deep inside of him. He pushes himself back onto the fingers wanting to feel Victor deeper inside.

Jim’s decadent swelter and the sights and sounds of his ebbing control chip away at Victor. His cock is twitching and aching. He’s waited as long as he can. Zsasz does his best to continue working Jim with his hand as he uses the other to steady himself and rise from his knee. Once standing, he slides his fingers out of Jim and spits into his hand for some form of lubrication for his aching cock. He lines himself up in preparation to enter Jim.

Jim leans his head on the tile and rolls his hips out more. He glides his hands up the wall again and arches his back waiting for Victor to enter him. He begs through heavy breaths.

“Please, _now_.”

Victor’s so aroused, he grunts before he even breaches Jim. He looks down at the spectacular sight of Jim’s wet, arched back and perfect ass just _begging_ to be taken. Zsasz moans as he enters Jim, savoring the decadent drag within his taut swelter. As he sinks further inside, his eyes roll back and jaw slackens.

Jim lifts his head off the tiles and rolls it back. His eyes clench tight when he feels Victor advancing his erection deep inside of him. He reaches a hand back and rests it on Victor’s hip, urging him to keep going. He clenches his muscles tight around the cock as it slowly inches forward. He pushes back and rolls his hips, sinking Victor in all the way.

Victor grunts once he fills Jim to the hilt. Despite the fact he’s flush against the man, he continues nudging himself forward. He wants to crawl up inside Jim and break him in half. He knows he should slow down, but he can’t fucking wait. Not this time. This is fastest Jim has ever taken him — _and the way he looks bent over, with water running down his perfect body?_ It drives him to madness.

Zsasz digs his fingers into Jim’s hips, pulls out a few inches and immediately starts thrusting into him. He closes his eyes and moans in response to the rhythmic slapping against Jim’s ass amplified by the acoustics of the bathroom. It isn’t long before Zsasz is pounding into Jim.

The feel of Victor losing control and taking him, makes Jim squirm against the wet tile wall. He tries bracing himself from being pummeled against the hard ceramic. His temple earns three hard knocks on the shower wall before he’s able to place his hands up near his head.

Jim loses himself to the moment, enjoying how roughly Victor is fucking him. He can feel the buildup of pressure and the hardness of his own cock, his orgasm not far away. He turns his head and encourages Victor to fuck him harder.

“Like that — _harder!_ Give it to me!”

Victor fucks Jim relentlessly, grunting as he pounds into the smaller man and watching his ass ripple with each thrust. Zsasz soon loses control of his hips as the inexorable pressure overwhelms him. He’s _so_ fucking close. He thrusts wildly before he’s overcome by his constricting muscles.

“Ji—  I’m _cumm—_  Ffffu—.”

Before Jim realizes it, his own orgasm starts coming over him. The building pressure releases into a strong burst from his cock. He lets out a loud shaky groan as his hand comes down to pump himself empty. He can feel his muscles tightening and grabbing onto Victor; he thrusts his hips out more. He’s practically at a ninety degree angle. He can feel his semen drip over his hand has he gives it a last final squeeze. He keeps himself braced from hitting the wall as Victor continues to pursue his own release inside of him.

Victor clamps down hard as he quakes and copiously spills inside Jim. Once he feels his legs falter, he quickly places a hand against the shower tiles to steady himself. He takes a deep breath and returns both hands to Jim. One reaches for Jim’s shoulder as he gingerly tries to pull out even though he doesn’t want to. Jim’s so fucking tight. He feels sublime inside.

Once Zsasz removes himself, he stands Jim upright and turns him around to face him. Victor’s jaw is slack and his eyes are soft. He pulls Jim close, embraces him tightly and kisses him deeply.

Jim wraps his arms around Victor’s neck. He pulls from the kiss and smiles at him.

“This was way better than what I envisioned the first time.”

Jim’s brings up a hand and caresses Victor’s face. His eyes tracking back and forth at his gorgeous dark eyes. Jim’s can feel his heart beat hard from the exertion but also for the man before him. His face softens as his fingers stroke Victor’s cheek.

Victor’s face softens with Jim’s fingers on his face. His brow begins twitching when he feels that warmth return to his chest again and he struggles to rein in his facial expressions. He arches a brow and stretches a smile.

“I aim to please.”

He reaches for Jim’s neck and draws him near so their foreheads touch briefly, before pecking the top of his head and pulling him in for another embrace.

“Glad I didn’t disappoint.”

Jim kisses his nose and softly chuckles.

“We should probably get back on the road soon. I promised my mother we would be there in time for dinner.”

Victor puffs out a soft laugh.

“Yeah, probably.”

Zsasz reaches to turn off the shower, grabs a towel, spins it and snaps it on Jim’s ass before handing it to him.

Jim grabs at the towel and narrows his eyes at Victor.

“Easy! That’s sore!”

Victor smiles, wraps an arm around Jim’s neck and pecks the top of his head.

“Sorry, babe.”

Zsasz blinks once he realizes what just came out of mouth, momentarily going rigid and hoping he didn’t say it loud enough for Jim to hear. His jaw slackens in shock.

_What the fuck did I just say?_

Jim raises an eyebrow and smirks.

“Are we now at the point of our relationship where we give each other pet names?”

Jim smirks at how utterly petrified Victor looks after his little slip up. He decides to not further taunt him but instead gives him a quick peck on the side of his cheek. Jim starts drying himself off as he turns back into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes.

An astonished Victor Zsasz stands silently in the shower with his towel, before remembering he’s supposed to be drying himself. He struggles for a reply but has none. Zsasz absently begins toweling off and walks out of the bathroom to gather his clothes in a daze.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter:
> 
> -FC’s b r i l l i a n t Gordlock sh!t  
> -Zsaszy asks Penguin for time off  
> -I get to bang Jim in the shower of a seedy no-tell motel  
> -AND I’m finally gonna meet Momma Gordon?
> 
> *sheepishly looks from side to side, conveniently forgetting to mention the “babe” comment, hoping no one will notice*
> 
> What’s not to love?
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> This is the start of the bonus material we just dreamt up while writing the office sex chapters. We were joking and laughing around about what would it be like for Jim to invite Victor to a family get together. Since a few chapters back his mother insisted that Zsasz be in attendance.
> 
> AGAIN I wish we saved the side bar conversations. Also, some of it was actual face to face stuff. Girl had me dying!!
> 
> The motel sex! Airbdhskdmgjsjenejb2!(!.&:’bfh!
> 
> Jim’s been all hot and bothered by that shower fantasy. Sometimes he just wants it quick and dirty. Or shall I say —quick and wet?
> 
> I loved how quick Victor tried stripping out of his layers. I found that comical :3
> 
> ~FC


	17. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Jim enjoy dinner at the Gordon family home. Jim has a phone call with Harvey that adds to his growing turmoil over attachments to the assassin.

Mrs. Gordon checks the baked chicken in the oven and ensures the potatoes are softening just right in the boiling water. She’s making Jim’s favorite dish tonight: baked chicken, mashed potatoes and cream style corn. She gets busy adding butter and cream to the pureed sweet corn in a deep dish pan. She has a set of rolls ready to bake once the boys arrive. She also prepared sun tea on her porch.

She’s excited to finally meet a friend of James’, since the only people she’s met were failed lovers. She once talked to Harvey on the phone momentarily; but other than that, she’s never met anyone from Jim’s adult life. He was a popular kid in school. He still keeps in touch with his childhood friends, but they’ve all moved on with their own lives. Irene still calls their parents to ensure they are doing well and to give them a visit.

She hears the sounds of two vehicles pulling up into her driveway. She washes her hands and dries them on a kitchen towel as she hurries to the door. She sees her son’s sedan pull up and then another car behind his. The growl of the engine on the Impala is deep as it rolls in and comes to a halt.

She beams her son a huge smile and waves. She hurries down to hug her boy and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. She smiles at the man exiting the Impala.

Victor watches Mrs. Gordon quickly descend the porch to greet her son before turning to greet him. She’s a kind-faced woman wearing a coral sleeveless tie-front button-down blouse, cropped beige chinos and espadrilles. Her sandy hair with a hint of grey at the temples is pulled up in a soft bun. When a lone strand of hair falls down her face, she smiles and tucks it behind her ear.

Zsasz approaches her. He nods and reaches for her hand. He looks into her eyes and smiles as he raises and kisses it.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Gordon. _Thank_ you for inviting me.”

Irene clutches her heart and smiles warmly. She’s never had a man kiss her hand since her husband back in the days when he courted her. She steps into Victor, giving him a warm hug. She blinks and realizes that he seems familiar. She pulls back and addresses him.

“Pleased to meet you Victor; I’m Irene. What’s your last name, hon?”

“Zsasz, ma’am. Victor _Zsasz_.”

Irene places her hands on his shoulders and smiles.

“Well, Victor Zsasz, I hope you’re hungry. Come. Get your things and you boys get settled. Dinner is almost ready.”

Irene turns to head back into the house. Jim smiles at Victor and then heads to his trunk to retrieve his suitcase.

“Little does she know you eat like a horse.”

Victor smiles, tilts his head and shrugs before returning to his Impala to grab his garment bag.

“Gotta have the fuel. Ya know, so I can keep up with her son.”

Jim narrows his eyes and smirks.

“You may need it.”

Victor puffs out a laugh, arches a brow and bites his lower lip. Jim heads into the house and leads Victor to the guest bedroom upstairs.

“I’ll be a minute. I need to call Harvey. He texted me on the way here.”

Victor nods as Jim leaves to make his call. He walks into the guest room and hangs up his garment bag. Zsasz stores his few toiletries in the bathroom before removing his gloves to wash his hands. Jim’s still talking, so he pulls out Mrs. Gordon’s gift and heads down to the kitchen.

“Wow, Mrs. Gordon. It smells really good.”

Irene turns and smiles. In the light of the kitchen she can now look upon Victor more clearly. Not only are his features striking, but he exudes an aura of confidence, evident by the way he carries himself. Though his presence would give anyone pause, she finds his face pleasing to behold. His boyish charm shining through by the warm smile he beams her way. She then notices he’s wearing a holster with guns.

“Why thank you, sweetie. Victor, darling, in this house no guns allowed especially at the dinner table.”

Victor frowns down at his shoulder holster, before returning an apologetic smile and bowing his head in deference.

“Of course. Sorry. Force of habit.” He arches a brow and points over a shoulder. “Mind if I step outside to remove them?”

Irene stirs the cream corn and nods.

“Go right ahead! Then bring yourself on over and help me with the potatoes if you don’t mind?”

“I’d be happy to.”

Victor sets to leave before remembering the gift.

“Oh. I got this is for you… (momentarily scrunching up his face as he looks down at the gift) ...to thank you for inviting me.”

Zsasz returns his gaze and offers the small token before making his way out of the house. Once outside, he removes his shoulder holster, almost forgetting his ankle holster. He hesitates before storing them in his trunk, but house rules are house rules and they are Mrs. Gordon’s to make.

Before returning inside, Victor stops briefly on the porch. Mildly unnerved by his lack of firearms, he reassures himself by patting the two blades he still has on him. He presses his lips together and takes a breath.

 _Watch yourself, Zsasz. You’re in Jim’s mom’s house_.

He returns inside, enters the kitchen and washes his hands again.

“Okie dokie. Ready for duty.”

Irene rummages in the fridge for the butter and milk.

“Thank you for the tea that’s very thoughtful of you. I appreciate the gift.”

Irene opens a drawer and holds out a masher towards Victor.

“Okay, get to mashing while I add ingredients.”

Irene hums as she preps the items to place in the pot. She glances at Victor and says.

“You have a very polite and professional attitude about things don’t you? I imagine your job keeps you on your toes, especially when you feel it natural to have your guns on you at all times.”

Victor nods as he mashes.

“I try to be as prepared as possible.”

Irene nods.

“Your last name is unique, but I feel as though I've heard it before.”

A timer goes off and she darts to check on the double oven. She snatches two oven mitts off to the side.

“Keep mashing, darling. I’m a set the chicken out.”

She gives Victor a quick glance while he continues to mash diligently.

Jim makes his way into the kitchen and raises an eyebrow. He scoffs softly to himself when he sees that his mother put Victor to work. He plops down at the small table off in the breakfast nook overlooking the kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I had to call Harvey.”

Jim rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze to the table top. His phone call with Harvey was odd.

_Harvey sounded pissed off at me for some weird reason._

_“Jim, so how’s your mother?”_

_There was a hint of anger in Harvey’s question that made Jim hesitate before answering._

_“...Great. She’s happy to see me like always.”_

_“Yeah…”_

_Harvey let out a scoff and continued with a stern tone._

_“...You better never let her down.”_

_“Uh, yeah. Of course. You okay, Harv? You sound like you’re mad at me.”_

_Harvey let out a sigh, then continued bitterly._

_“Don’t mind me. Just on edge. It doesn’t feel right lettin' that little asshole, Oswald, run all of the underworld. It just doesn’t sit well with me. Letting'criminals get away with shit, no matter the reason. The results of our past mistakes should be a testimony to how shitty it turns out for us."_

Jim watches Victor as he assists his mother in the kitchen. Harvey’s voice continues in his head.

_“When you get back we need to find out what Oswald is doin'. We can’t just turn a blind eye. We needa know what we are dealin' with before he gets outta hand.”_

Irene places the chicken on a couple of heating pads she prepared ahead of time. She takes out a knife and begins uncurling the aluminum foil. She gives her son a glance and raises an eyebrow at how seriously pensive he looks.

“Well, how’s Harvey? Still hating his position as captain?”

Irene chuckles and takes out a fork. Jim snaps out of his thoughts and offers a small smile.

“He’s doing as well as one can expect. Always gruff and short-tempered.”

“So, how’s he liking that new mayor since that Oswald Cobblepot vanished?”

Jim grins painfully.

“He hates him. He’s kind of a schmuck, as Harvey puts it.”

Irene comes up behind Victor and pats his shoulder.

“That’s good, hon. Thank you.”

Victor beams back at her praise.

“You’re welcome. Need help with anything else?”

Irene shakes her head.

“Nope, all good!”

Irene quickly shoves the pan of rolls in the oven. She sets out the cold sun tea filled pitcher and three glasses.

“You boys go ahead and get your drinks. James, set out the plates and silverware.”

Jim digs into the cabinets and sets out three plates and utensils. He then serves himself and his mother two glasses of tea. He gives Victor a large smile.

Victor returns Jim smile, grinning to one side of his mouth. When he fills his glass, he notices it’s low and shakes it.

“Mrs. Gordon, would you like for me to start another pitcher of tea?”

Irene holds up one finger and reaches back into the fridge, producing an extra pitcher.

“Here you go.”

She looks at the timer for the rolls, shoves a serving spoon in the pot of potatoes and ensures the knife and serving fork are near the chicken. She then places another spoon in the corn and turns her attention to Jim.

“Did the GCPD ever find out what happened to Mayor Cobblepot? Was he ever found?”

Jim smiles uncomfortably and looks at Victor before he answers. Irene notices the odd look on Jim’s face and his glance towards Victor.

_Now what in the world was that look all about? It’s almost like he is reluctant to say anything in front of his friend._

Her son replies under his breath.

“He’s alive.”

Jim clams up, refusing to further discuss Oswald with his mother while Zsasz pours himself a tall glass of tea in his family home. The whole scene felt surreal. Jim shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Harvey’s words echo in his head.

_“The results of our past mistakes should be a testimony to how shitty it turns out for us.”_

Jim swallows.

_Just stop. For this weekend l just want to enjoy what I have before…_

Irene nods but tries to piece together Jim’s reluctance to further discuss Mayor Cobblepot in front of his friend, whose name she knows she's heard before. She remembers her late husband’s files in his study. The name Falcone keeps popping up in her mind, but also Cobblepot. Since some of the files concern Carmine Falcone, she decides to sift through a box or two and see if she can dig anything up.

Irene offers her son a reprieve from his discomfort. She smiles as she chirps.

“Oh well, that’s good! Okay boys, serve yourselves. Rolls are almost done, two minutes to go. Victor, go ahead. You first, hon.”

Victor’s about to fix a huge helping but stops himself, remembering he’s the first to plate. He furrows his brow and presses his lips together before taking a determined breath to temper himself. He still takes a hearty portion of everything, but not nearly as much as he’d like.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gordon. It all looks delicious.”

Irene smiles and nods.

“Thanks hon, now don’t you two get too full. I have dessert in the fridge too. Strawberry shortcakes with fresh berries and whip cream. James, come honey.”

She ushers Jim towards the kitchen. Jim plasters on a large fake smile to mask the bitterness beginning to fester within himself. He pats his belly and says as light-heartedly as possible.

“Mmmm strawberries and whip cream. I have to be able to chase bad guys, mom! You’re getting all me fat!”

Irene gives Jim a kiss on the cheek and giggles.

“Oh you! No criminal can best you. You’re practically a ninja!”

Jim smiles smugly at Victor. Zsasz chuckles and nods his head in agreement, before grinning at Jim’s mother.

“Jim _definitely_ keeps those criminals on their toes, Mrs. Gordon.”

Jim’s smile goes from smug to a wide grin as he eyes Victor up and down. Irene side glances the exchange and smiles at Victor.

“I bet _you_ can give the bad guys _what for_ as well, Victor. You’re a strapping young man. My, if I saw you come barreling down on me I would be _quaking_ in my boots!”

Irene follows Jim and serves herself. She sets her plate on the table and grabs oven mitts to handle the pan of rolls out of the oven. She empties the rolls into a basket.

Jim heads to the table following Zsasz. Victor turns to Mrs. Gordon and stretches a wide toothy grin.

“Now Mrs. Gordon, I would _never_ come barreling down on _you_. Your _meal_ maybe, but never _you_.”

Irene busts out laughing, a hearty deep chuckle full of delight.

“Feel free to get more that’s for sure.”

She heads to the table with the rolls and notices that Victor is sitting close to Jim. They’re practically elbow-to-elbow despite having ample room to sit at a comfortable distance. The pale man is tilting his head and staring Jim down. Her son is also eyeing Victor with a smile, one that conveys they both share a secret.

She raises an eyebrow but reels in her facial expression and sets the rolls in the middle of the table. She then sits at the end by the bay window.

“Okay, no one dig in just yet. Jim, why don’t you ‘say grace’, sweetie?”

Irene bows her head but peeps up at Victor for a second.

Victor bows his head and casts his eyes down, suppressing the urge to look at Jim as he waits for him to recite their customary blessing.

“Thank you, God, for the food and my loving mother. May criminals always remain bad shots. Amen!”

Irene chimes in with a hearty.

“Amen to that!”

Jim smiles at Victor then grabs his glass and drinks down his tea. Victor pulls down the corners of his mouth and softly snickers to himself before conspicuously looking to see if anyone else has begun eating. He impatiently waits, fork in hand.

Irene tears her roll in half and nibbles on it.

“Jim, speaking of bad shots. How’s your arm?”

“I don't feel any pain but it’s going to leave a nasty scar.”

Jim shrugs and dives into his plate.

The instant Mrs. Gordon bites into her roll, Victor stabs a huge piece of chicken, shoves it in his mouth and moans loudly with satisfaction. She's a great cook. When Zsasz hears the comment about the scar, he looks towards it, slips the back of his index finger underneath Jim’s t-shirt sleeve and rubs beneath it.

“It’s healed well so far.”

Victor promptly continues scarfing his food. Jim smiles at Victor but clears his throat and rolls up his t-shirt sleeve. He looks down at his scar.

“It’s still a bit raised but it’s healing.”

Irene smiles as she looks on. The tender way Victor rubbed on Jim seemed oddly intimate for just “friends”. She begins cutting her chicken.

“That’s good! I probably won’t be up too much longer. I have an early morning of prepping. I will need you to set up all the tables and chairs tomorrow, James.”

“Sure thing. I take it the whole family is coming?”

“Yep. All of the tables and chairs that are in the shed and garage.”

Jim looks at Victor.

“Guess you didn’t figure you would be coming over to work?”

Jim smiles warmly at Victor and continues eating his food.

Victor replies, still chewing.

“Happy to help, Mrs. Gordon.”

Victor’s almost finished his first helping. He looks up at Jim’s mother, smiles and bites his lip.

“This is really delicious. Mind if I have some more?”

Irene waves him on.

“Go right ahead! Polish it all off for all I care! Saves me from having to transfer to the fridge later.”

Jim gives his mother an anxious look then starts eating faster. He knows Victor _could_ and _would_ eat everything in the kitchen if given the chance. Victor’s eyes twinkle, his grin wide. He replies in a singsong voice.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gordon.”

Zsasz promptly stands and immediately strides into the kitchen, this time serving himself huge portions of everything. He returns with his plate piled high, face beaming.

“Everything’s _delicious_.”

Jim eyes the cream corn helping Victor came back with and knew there was maybe a spoonful left, if that. He’s about to huff out but remembers there’s dessert. He shakes his head at Victor. Irene chuckles at the enormous helping on Victor’s plate.

“Oh my! You poor thing! Were you starving? I’m glad I made a lot! Don’t forget dessert.”

Jim cleans his plate with a roll and watches as Victor inhales his second helping of food. He then beams a smile at his mother and chirps.

“Thanks for the food, mom.”

Victor chimes in, “Yeah, Mrs. Gordon. You’re a _really great_ cook.”

Irene gets up and takes her plate to the kitchen.

“You are both welcome! If you excuse me, I need to make some calls in the study. I’ll be back for dessert in a bit.”

Irene pats Victor on the shoulder as she exits to the back hallway.

Jim turns his attention to Victor and raises an eyebrow as he glances over to the kitchen.

“I’m going to eat my dessert since you ate all of the cream corn.”

Victor leans over and growls in Jim’s ear.

“That’s okay. I plan on having _my dessert_ later.”

Jim purses his lips and looks Victor up and down. He whispers back.

“Oh, I _hope_ so.”

Irene looks through a bunch of Peter’s old belongings in the study, from his time as D.A. in Gotham. She sifts through old photos and news clippings. It bugged her that the name Victor Zsasz seemed familiar. It’s not a common name but she’s certain she’s heard it before.

She found some things about Carmine Falcone, an old photo then lots of documents with redacted information. She thinks hard but she just can’t place where she’s heard “Zsasz” before. She shuffles all of Peter’s belongings back onto storage shelves and heads towards the breakfast nook but stops. She takes a moment to study how Victor and Jim behave towards each other.

Jim has his dessert in front of him with a fresh glass of tea. He stabs a strawberry with his fork and brings it up to his lips. He turns his head and slowly inserts the berry into his mouth. His eyes never blinking as he holds Victor’s gaze.

Zsasz stops eating and absently holds his fork as he watches Jim slowly insert his strawberry into _that mouth_. He retracts his facial muscles and slackens his jaw as Jim takes it in.

Jim lets the tip of his tongue flick at the berry before it disappears into his mouth. His gaze settles on Victor’s mouth.

Victor softly sighs and moans, his breathing accelerating. He sucks his teeth and slowly shakes his head at Jim’s teasing, eyes darting between Jim’s eyes and mouth.

Irene narrows her eyes at the display and smirks.

_Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle…_

Irene goes back to the study and closes the door loudly. She then walks back out with a huge smile.

“All done! James is already diving into the dessert, I see!”

She heads towards the fridge and brings Victor’s serving along with her own. She sets it down next to his plate and winks at him.

“If you like more strawberries there’s a whole container in the crisper. Better get some before Jim eats them all.”

Victor chuckles and nods in agreement.

“ _That’s_ the truth.”

Zsasz finishes the remainder of his dinner and wipes his mouth with a napkin before taking his plate to the kitchen.

“Mrs. Gordon, I can start the dishes if you want.”

Irene slices into her shortcake and shakes her head.

“No, it’s okay Victor. Sit. Eat. When you and James are done, _both_ of you can do me this favor.”

She smiles at Jim. She knows how much he hates chores and especially dishes.

Jim looks up and nods. He turns his head and watches Victor rinse his plate. He replies, never tearing his gaze from Zsasz.

“Sure. You should probably get your rest after you cooked us this amazing meal. Victor and I can handle the dishes.”

Irene notices how happy Jim seems with the prospect of being alone with Victor. Never in his entire life has he ever been happy to do dishes. She smirks and raises an eyebrow at her son.

“My, what a change in attitude towards chores.”

Jim clears his throat and offers her a sheepish smile. He immediately dives back into his dessert.

Victor returns to the table and smiles down at his dessert. He plops himself down and dives in. He groans with pleasure and addresses Jim’s mother before he finishes chewing.

“Wow, Mrs. Gordon. This is _delicious_.”

“Oh you are welcome!”

Irene takes a few more bites of her dessert then gets up and takes her dishes to the kitchen.

“Okay, boys. I’m headed to bed. Sleep tight and see you in the morning. I’ll be waking about five in the morning. I have a lot of cooking to do.”

Victor nods and smiles as he continues eating. As he chews, he addresses Jim's mother.

“‘Night, Mrs. Gordon. Thanks again for the great meal. _Oh..._ (nodding towards and elbowing the detective) I know Jim likes coffee, but what would _you_ like me to start tomorrow morning? Coffee or tea?”

Irene smiles, pausing behind Victor. She takes notice of another small kernel of truth into their relationship. She places her hands on Victor’s shoulders and beams down at him.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I love my tea.”

“Great. Any preferences?”

“Well, I think I would like to try something from your gift basket. Surprise me.”

She places her hands on the side of Victor’s cheeks and plants a kiss on top of his head. She then gives Jim a kiss and heads to her room on the first floor on the opposite side of the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno about y’all, but I found this surprisingly fluffy given neither FC nor I are prone to fluff. 
> 
> This chapter was challenging for me. I know Zsasz can be socially awkward, but he can also be pretty smooth, too. I figure for brief periods of time he might be able to pull off some fairly normal interaction, especially if it involved people he respects. 
> 
> It’s no secret how Zsasz feels about respect and he clearly respects Jim, so I figured he’d extend that same respect to Jim’s family, especially his mom given the loss of his parents. I figured Zsasz would try hard to mind himself with her. (After all, this is a man who still visits his bubbie.)
> 
> Do you have any thoughts on the matter? We’d love to hear ‘em. Again, thanks for the read! Y’all are the best!
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> Ooo this chapter was interesting to RP. I was piloting Jim and his mother. So I'm typing like a mad woman and I will pause to see if Jess/Zsasz wanted to interject. 
> 
> I think it's highly likely that Victor will conduct himself with restraint and respect in a home of the Gordons. Given on screen, he seems the type to do so.
> 
> If you are asking yourself why the heck would he come. I think he came for the food---and sex. LOL *Grin* Also because I wanted to see how he would conduct himself in the midst of the entire Gordon clan. I kept telling Jess it reminds me of Edward Scissorhands when he is at the BBQ with the neighbors.
> 
> Yeah, there's fluff, as much fluff as Jess and I can withstand. Which when you read through these last chapters our idea of fluff is somewhat different. I think the dinner is the cute fluff. 
> 
> ~FC


	18. I'm Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Victor enjoy some hanky panky. Zsasz bonds with Jim in another way, something deeply intimate.

After Jim and Victor finish their dinner and dessert, they amble into the kitchen to tackle the large cookware on the counters and stove. Jim is itching to lay his hands on the busy and distracted man scraping and rinsing dishes. He decides to give his mother a few more minutes ensuring she’s asleep before attempting to grope and kiss Victor.

Jim takes the sink stop and closes a drain to fill half the sink with hot soapy water. He smiles as Victor joins him to rinse.

Zsasz leans into Jim, takes his earlobe between his teeth and tugs. He reaches for a dish and purrs.

“So… about _dessert_ later...”

Jim chuckles and leans away from Victor. He glances toward the hallway then returns his gaze to Victor.

“Easy. My mother could still be awake. I haven't exactly figured out how to break it to her about us.”

Jim smirks and glances at Victor’s lips before scrubbing the first pot. The thought of sneaking around did appeal to him, but he didn’t want to give his mother a heart attack if she caught them making out or worse _—fucking_.

Victor shrugs casually, surreptitiously glancing toward the hallway. He reaches for Jim’s ass, sliding his hand low and cupping it firmly before slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Okay. _Easy_ then. _Got_ it.”

Jim moans and chuckles under his breath. He then bumps Victor’s hand away by body checking him with his shoulder.

“Concentrate. There’s an assload of dishes here.”

Jim narrows his eyes at Victor and smiles. He continues with the cookware and hands the soapy pot to Zsasz.

Victor takes the pot and places it in the sink, before reaching for Jim’s soapy hand. He turns to face the detective and wraps his larger hand around Jim’s until it curls enough to make a hole between his fingers and thumb. Victor slowly inserts his first two fingers into the small opening. He rotates his fingers so that his finger pads are seated within the hollow of Jim’s palm. Zsasz begins rubbing small circles into it, reminiscent of their earlier encounter at the motel.

Jim smiles as Victor performs a perverted display into his soapy hand. He clenches his hand tightly around the two stroking fingers and softly chuckles. He glances back at the hallway then pulls Victor down to his lips by grabbing the collar of his shirt. He plants a quick and rough kiss, their teeth bumping together.

“Don’t get me started.”

Jim clenches down harder on the fingers while he stares at Victor’s lips.

Zsasz stretches a smile, arches a brow and glances down at Jim’s hand on his collar and continues rubbing as much as he can inside the clenched fingers.

“But _you’re_ the one grabbing _me_.”

Jim smirks and releases Victor’s fingers and collar. He returns to the mountain of dishes.

“Well, you got me started. Let’s finish this up. At this rate, we might be done before dawn if we’re lucky.”

Jim focuses on the large cookware. He scrubs diligently but his mind wanders to his conversation with Harvey. He mentioned that things were quiet all over Gotham. Sure, there’s still crime for the most part, but the rate at which they are committed seems to be falling.

_Harvey and I both know that’s because of Oswald. I wonder what he’s up to and how he’s dropping the crime rate. I’m sure it’s not because he has the safety of the people in mind._

Jim glances at Victor who seems to be happily rinsing and giving him a boyish smirk.

“Things in Gotham seems to be settling down. I’m not complaining. Harvey even seems to be in a better mood now that we aren't running ragged in the streets.”

Victor shrugs casually and nods.

“Yeah. I guess they have.”

Jim nods and offers Victor a halfhearted smile. He pushes the subject to the wayside. He knows that whatever Oswald is up to will eventually spill through the GCPD doors and may very well be a problem he has to deal with.

_Then where does that put us? I never thought I would get attached like this. I’ve allowed this to go too far._

Jim swallows and to tries to push out whatever bad thoughts want to form in his head. He knows it’s just his sanity and common sense buzzing in his mind. He knows damn well that Zsasz isn’t someone who _can_ (or _will_ ) change the nature of what he is. Given the command, Victor would not hesitate to kill him; and, if it given the choice of killing Victor or saving his own life, Jim can’t say for certain if he would stay his own hand.

_He didn’t have to cover up my murders or watch over me after I was shot. He didn’t have to come with me and stay the whole weekend. But he did. He did. Why?_

Jim lets out a huge sigh.

_I know I will eventually grow to resent his silence and loyalty to his boss. I can’t turn off the part of me that will keep striving to do my job even if it puts me in contention with Victor. I’m already trying to fish information out of him and nothing bad has happened… yet._

Jim bites his lower lip as he snaps out of his thoughts, realizing he’s been washing the same pan for longer than he should. He hands the pan to Victor and continues with another.

_Do the right thing for once, Jim. Let him go._

Jim can feel his throat and chest tighten. He inhales a deep slow breath and exhales quietly. He looks over and smiles at Victor as he rinses the pan.

After washing and rinsing, they dry and put everything away. Jim looks at the time on the stove clock. It's nearing nine. Jim hangs the damp kitchen towels and turns to Victor.

“Well, uh. I’m headed to bed. It’s been a long day.”

Victor tilts his head, eyes Jim up and down before smiling and sucking his teeth. His gaze travels between Jim’s eyes and mouth.

“Yeah, I guess it _has_ been. We probably _should_ get to bed, huh?”

“Well if you are waking to make us coffee and tea, then yeah. You might want your rest. I have a large family; they may tax your patience.”

Jim smiles as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Victor appreciatively watches Jim exit the kitchen and follows him up. When the detective briefly rests his hand on his bedroom door and glances back, Zsasz responds with a knowing smirk and saunters back to the guest room. Once inside, he relieves himself of his boots and every stitch of clothing. After brushing his teeth, he sprawls his nude body across the bed.

He stares at the ceiling thinking of Jim just a couple of doors down. He grins, walks over to his garment bag and pulls out something he’s been thinking about using on the detective. He quietly creeps to the man’s room and silently sneaks in.

Jim’s hanging out the window next to his bed. He has his arms folded over on the windowsill with his chin on his forearms. He’s sitting on his knees and heels on the twin mattress. He always enjoyed listening to the wind chimes and crickets right before sleeping. He closes his eyes as the melody of the night outside lulls him. He doesn’t hear his door open.

Victor stalks quietly behind Jim until he’s directly behind him, reaching for his shoulder. Zsasz quickly snakes his arm around Jim’s neck and pulls him back into his chest, leaning into his ear.

“Hi.”

Jim is startled out of his peace with the presence of a strong jerking arm around his neck. He finds himself pressed hard against Victor. He quietly moans; he turns his head and licks Victor’s face. He purrs softly.

“I knew you’d show.”

Victor takes his other hand and slowly circles around Jim’s pecs, down his abdominals and lower, slipping his fingers into Jim’s boxers and wrapping them around his dick. He grasps it, whispering.

“You did?”

Jim softly rolls his body into Victor’s fingers, his bed begins creaking with the small movement. He stops and says through heavy breaths.

“I did. All during dinner I was certain you’d sneak into my bedroom. But we can’t make a lot of noise; the beds in this house are squeaky.”

Jim places his hand over the one on his cock and slowly rolls into it again. The bed springs creak and squeak with the slightest movement.

“Hear?”

Victor relaxes his arm around Jim’s neck and reluctantly removes his hand from him. He turns the smaller man around to face him and leans down into his ear whispering.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

He takes Jim’s hand, walks him to the center of the room and leans down to kiss him deeply. As he does, he slips his fingers beneath Jim’s waistband and slips off his boxers.

Jim grins when Victor walks him to the middle of his bedroom. He shivers when Victor starts taking his boxers off; he kicks them away as soon as they fall down. He reaches up and caresses Victor’s head as he wraps one leg around him.

“We can always do it standing up.”

Jim nips at his chin as his hips begin rolling on Victor. He clamps one hand behind his neck and the other he caresses Victor’s chest.

Victor curls up one side of his mouth.

“ _So_ many options, Jim.”

Victor begins rubbing himself against Jim and places both hands on his chest, before sliding them slowly down Jim’s body and descending to his knees. Victor rubs his face against Jim’s erect cock before looking up at him and quietly whispering.

“See, I kinda had something _else_ in mind.”

Jim moans as he gazes down at the Victor on his knees. He caresses his head with one hand and smiles.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

He reaches up for Jim’s hand and coaxes him down to the floor. He bites a lip and tilts his head, eyeing Jim up and down as the smaller man kneels with him.

“See…. I was kinda thinking…”

Victor takes his hand and runs it down Jim’s chest motioning for him to lie back. Jim complies with the subtle nudging and relaxes on his back on the wood floor. He beams a smile at Victor.

“Well, what _are_ you thinking?”

Victor smiles as he slowly drags his hand down Jim’s torso, hips and eventually his legs. He slowly palms Jim’s inner thigh to spread his leg open. He drags his hand up Jim’s groin, circling slowly around his testicles before taking his dick in his hand. Victor shrugs and sighs.

“We’d change it up a little.”

Zsasz strategically places his knees next to Jim’s shoulders before straddling his face. He leans down and nudges into Jim’s crotch and slides the soft underside of his tongue along the man's cock.

Jim exhales an excited breath at the position in which Zsasz places his body over him. Jim reaches up and handles Victor’s dick in his hand. He extends his tongue and swipes at the tip. He shudders upon feeling Victor lick at him, his breath hot and thick against his testicles. He moans with the sensation.

Jim gently inserts Victor into his mouth as he reaches a hand up to fondle the smooth skin between his testicles and asshole. His other hand grasps Victor’s hip, encouraging Zsasz to enter his mouth with a thrust.

Victor moans with the sensation of detective’s mouth and his encouragement. He takes Jim’s shaft firmly into his hand and tents his tongue over the tip to tease. After several flicks, he takes Jim into his mouth, sucking hard. His hips have already begun lazily rocking into Jim’s mouth. He hums softly before taking a deep breath and reaching around for Jim’s ass to swallow him deeply, nudging his nose at balls.

Jim opens his throat as much as possible by craning his head back to allow Victor to pump into him easily. He’s so focused on Victor’s satisfaction he hasn’t even thought about how great Victor’s soft ministrations feel on his own erection.

He continues to softly caress upward in the crack to find his prize. Jim’s fingers stroke the tight ring of flesh. He brings his other hand strokes the taut skin of Victor’s testicles. Only after he has the care of his lover well in hand does he start thrusting into Victor's mouth. Jim hums and shakes his head from side to side to further stimulate Victor.

Zsasz thighs have already begun twitching in response to Jim’s adroit mouth and fingers. He slides his hand beneath Jim’s hips and takes his ass firmly into his hands, digging his fingers deeply into it and forcing him further into his mouth. In little time, he’s bobbing his head and sucking Jim with reckless abandon.

Jim slowly inserts a finger into Victor and wiggles it just passed the slip of muscle. He moans when he feels Victor take him deeper into his mouth. Jim loses himself when Victor’s sucking feels as though he’s trying to swallow his cock and balls down his throat. Jim emits a loud groan, lost in the building orgasm. He almost forgets to breathe on Victor’s backstroke; he quickly gasps in a large amount of air before Victor slips back in. He swirls his finger in deeper, his other hand cupping Victor’s balls up so he can breathe.

The dizzying sensation of Jim’s mouth on him while he sucks Jim makes quick work of Victor. Jim’s dexterous finger fan the deep swelter and build the exquisite pressure. As Victor begins slipping, he clutches Jim’s ass more desperately. He passionately claws his fingers into him, spreading his cheeks apart to swallow him deeper. He tries to slow his impending burst, but it’s too late. He’s already shuddering and quaking, erupting into Jim’s mouth.

Jim can feel Victor’s orgasm coming by the way his legs are shaking and also the muscle clenching around his finger. He imagines what it would be like to have his dick inside as it’s happening. He moans and hums onto Victor, his finger working him in slow deep stroking movements.

When he hears Victor groan on his cock, copious amounts of thick semen burst deep down into his throat. The load begins to fill his mouth; he tries to swallow most of it down but finds himself struggling to breathe. He turns his head slipping Victor out of his mouth. He takes a moment to gasp for air. He quickly brings his other hand up to stroke Victor’s still squirting cock. The last sputters of Victor’s seed spill onto his face and neck.

Jim looks down; his lover continues to suck him, the grip on his ass deep and Victor’s mouth hungry. Jim closes his eyes and starts thrusting; the feel of Victor’s grunts and moans as he rides out his climax make his cock pulse with pleasure.

Jim can feel his climax build as a slow heat spreads throughout his body. He quivers, struggling to keep a hand stroking the still squirting cock. His body finally releases his orgasm and he groans softly while pumping into Victor’s warm wet mouth.

Victor moans with satisfaction with Jim’s burst. He holds the detective fast and continues working him as he thrusts. Only after Jim stops pumping and shuddering, does he relax his mouth and slow his bobbing between Jim’s legs. He pulls off, takes a hand from Jim’s ass and lazily runs it along his inner thigh before planting a kiss on it.

Zsasz removes his other hand and repositions himself so that he’s facing Jim and looming over him. He smiles as he runs his fingers through Jim’s hair before leaning down to deeply kiss him.

Jim wraps his arms around Victor pulling him down to lay on his body while they kiss. He pulls back and licks at his lips. He beams a smile back at Victor as he wipes the sticky semen from his chin and cheek with the back of his hand. Jim sighs and brings up a hand to caress Victor’s face.

“You’re so amazing. No matter how many times we do it, it always feels like the first time.”

Jim’s brow softens and his eyes slowly scan Victor’s face. His fingers stroking along Victor’s strong jawline. Zsasz nestles himself between Jim’s legs and wraps his arms tightly around him. He nudges Jim’s ear.

“ _You…_ definitely know how to… uhh… keep my interest.”

He pulls back a little and looks down at Jim, arching a brow and biting his lower lip.

“So, uhh… I’ve been wondering… exactly _how many times_ have I made you cum anyway?”

Jim laughs. He brings up his hands and counts in his head for a minute. He sheepishly grins up at Victor.

“Well, as far as I can remember, maybe over fifteen or eighteen times. Counting masturbation….ummm yeah.”

Jim bites his lower lip and bats his eyes at Victor. He can feel his face get hot. He’s blushing over his uncontrollable urge to touch himself when thinking of the glorious man on top of him.

Victor stretches a wide toothy grin as he rises from Jim. He leans towards the bed and reaches for his boxcutter that he laid at the foot of it. He returns back to Jim, looking him up and down rapaciously before sliding out the blade.

“ _Fifteen_ or _eighteen_ times, Jim? Is _that_ what I heard you say?”

Jim sits up and reaches a hand to stroke down Victor’s legs. He looks up into his eyes and shrugs.

“Not exactly keeping count, but let's go with eighteen.”

Jim places a kiss on top of Victor’s thigh. His heart racing at the thought of Zsasz slicing into him.

Victor arches a brow and tilts his head.

“ _Eighteen_ then.”

Zsasz growls.

“Roll over.”

Jim rolls onto his stomach and rests his head on his right forearm. He patiently eyes his dominant lover.

Victor places the boxcutter in his mouth and begins dragging his hand slowly down Jim’s shoulders, running his thumb along his scapular spine. He glides his hand down his lats and the valley of his lower back before arriving at the hill of Jim’s ass. He strokes and cups it in his palm. Zsasz glides his fingers below Jim’s right buttock and begins rubbing his thumb along the bottom before his thigh begins. He removes the boxcutter from his mouth.

“I’m thinking right _here_.”

Jim smiles and nods. He watches Victor, never averting his gaze. He wants to see the blade come down on him before the slice.

Victor reaches for Jim’s hips. He barely lifts and tilts them so that the detective’s ass is slightly raised. He methodically places the boxcutter against Jim’s flesh and moans softly as he pierces it. Zsasz counts breathily as he drags the blade downward.

“ _One…_ ”

Jim looks on as if in a trance. He feels the burn of slicing skin, Victor’s hand steady and strong. He sucks in a quick breath and stiffens. He rests his head on the floor, still keeping his eyes on Victor. He can see Zsasz’s elation at finally sinking a blade into him, practically possessed by it. Victor’s eyes never blinking and his focus intense. The moan that escapes Victor’s lips different from the ones Jim’s heard while in the throes of desire. This moan is the sound of a predator finally capturing his kill, the satisfaction of claiming his prey.

Jim is hypnotized by this side of Victor.

Zsasz retracts his facial muscles and smiles as he watches the blood bead atop the laceration before spilling from the first mark. _It’s so fucking beautiful_. He continues his sacrosanct rite for the next few cuts.

“.... _Four…_ ”

By the time Zsasz reaches number three, Jim clutches his hair at the front of his head. He does his best to steady his breathing; he can feel sweat drip from him. The cluster of cuts burn fiercely by the end of the fourth slice. He’s breathing hard, but his gaze never wavers from Victor.

Zsasz sucks in a deep breath between his teeth that makes a soft hissing sound. This is his favorite part —completing a set. His breathing now audible with excitement at the promise of the incision’s longer drag.

“.... _Five…_ ”

It isn’t till the fifth cut that Jim lets out a shaky whimper; his eyes close then. He does his best to remain perfectly still so the stroke of the cut isn’t messed up. He can feel sweat now pour down his neck and body. Once the stroke is complete, he shakily moans out.

_“Victor…”_

He opens his eyes to gaze adoringly at Zsasz.

Victor has already begun leaning towards the completed set and slipping out his tongue when he hears Jim’s voice. He blinks and softly shakes his head.

“Hmm?”

Jim smiles and inhales softly.

“Keep going.”

Victor stretches a wide smile before he flattens his tongue and laps up Jim’s blood trail with a long, deep swipe. His reply is throaty.

“Mmm… I _like_ that answer.”

Victor strokes Jim’s other buttock in the same place and licks it before he begins, another deep moan escaping. As he repeats the hallowed ritual, his cock stirs. Zsasz has personally tallied more than five kills at a time, but the anticipation of carving up so much more of Jim’s pristine flesh intoxicates him. He continues in his trance before savoring the long diagonal drag of the next completed set.

“... _Ten…_ ”

Blood drips down Jim’s haunches and thighs. Victor reaches and runs his hand across it, beautifully smearing it down Jim’s taut glutes and hamstrings. Afterwards, he leans down and licks a stripe through the crimson streak. Victor then moves his mouth and begins flicking his tongue across and between Jim’s buttocks.

Jim has lost himself to the pain and intimacy. Having this connection with Victor is better than any uttered words of affection and more deeply felt. He doesn't need to hear Victor profess his feelings for him. He understands now just how much Victor has let him in.

The exquisite pain burns deep but the feel of Victor’s tongue on his rear sends a shiver of pleasure up his spine. Jim steadies himself; he can feel his hardened persona breaking. He begs through a shaky and near weeping voice.

“C-can I be on your lap for the last set? I want to _look_ you in the eyes… _please_.”

Victor nudges his mouth as low as he can between Jim’s legs and flattens his tongue to take a long deep lick up Jim’s gluteal cleft. Once he arrives at the top of the split, he begins licking at the small of Jim’s back. He slots his dick inside Jim’s split and pushes it up along the moist trail.

Zsasz looks down and smiles when he discovers how much of Jim’s blood is smeared on his body. He answers dreamily.

“I’d like that.”

He nudges his mouth toward the small of Jim’s back and nibbles along the dimple above Jim’s right buttock before piercing it with his boxcutter for another set. Victor’s hand remains steady, despite the fact his hips have begun to softly thrust, mimicking the way his blade pierces Jim’s flesh through the next completed set.

“... _Fifteen…_ ”

Victor leans down and laps up every bit of the blood from the third set of tallies before descending his mouth and flicking his tongue between Jim’s cleft and softly biting his buttock.  

Jim is shuddering by the time Victor finishes the third set of tallies. He feels drenched in sweat and blood. By now, tears are cascading down his face. He has his head turned to the left and his eyes closed to enjoy the painful praises Victor leaves on each spot of sliced flesh.

The feel of Victor’s teeth sinking into his ass make his eyes pop open. The new pain sensation elicits a quiet gasp.

Zsasz drags his hands down Jim’s body. He nudges his face against the smeared blood on Jim’s backside before sighing and reverently kissing it. He reaches for Jim’s hip and gently encourages him to turn and face him. As he does, Victor shuffles on his knees to maneuver himself directly in front of Jim.

Victor studies Jim’s softened face and fresh tears in the moonlight. He takes his other hand and traces the trail with his finger, following the path with his eyes. He gazes back up at Jim and reaches for his jaw, lightly running his thumb back and forth across Jim’s lips, separating them and coaxing him to open his mouth.

Jim slowly sits up and shuffles closer to Victor. He leans forward with his palms to the floor. He rests on his right hip while extending both of his legs to the left, the pain on his backside unable to withstand direct pressure from sitting.

He tilts his head up to look into Victor's eyes. The feel of his hand tracing his tears only make more spill down. Jim is unable to put a finger on what it is he is feeling. His only response is silent adoration.

Victor’s thumb on his mouth presses in. Jim opens his mouth.

Zsasz softly moans when Jim’s mouth opens. He slowly slips his thumb into it. His jaw slightly slackens as he drags his thumb along Jim’s bottom teeth, before softening his brow and pulling Jim’s mouth close to him. He doesn’t even think to remove his thumb before he opening his mouth wide and pulling Jim in for a bruising kiss.

Jim reaches for Victor with his left hand; he wraps his arm around his shoulders. He tongues Victor’s thumb and plays with the invading tongue. Sharp teeth scrape at his lips as Victor’s kisses get hungrier.

Jim shuffles closer and gets on his knees. He pulls away from the kiss and removes Victor’s thumb from his mouth. He climbs onto Victor’s lap, straddling him. He wraps his arms around Victor’s neck and whispers.

“Finish with the last strokes.”

Victor smiles at the breathtaking sight of Jim straddling him and climbing into his lap, reminiscent of the time Jim mounted him on the recliner. Zsasz briefly looks down at his boxcutter, before gazing back up.

“Jim?”

Jim peers down at the bloody boxcutter when Victor’s gaze averts to it. He then strokes the pale face before him as dark eyes return to peer into his own.

“What is it, Victor?”

Victor takes the back of the hand holding the boxcutter and reverently rubs a slow circle inside Jim’s inner thigh marking where he plans to cut next. He hesitates before peering back up at Jim.

“I’ve never used this on anyone else. Only _myself…_

Now _you_.”

Jim’s eyes widen with his confession, his heart skipping a beat. He leans in and presses his forehead to Victor’s. Jim’s eyes never blinking, he places his right hand over the one holding the blade. Jim opens up his leg so Victor can easily access the spot he’s rubbing. Jim guides Victor’s hand to make the first incision on the pristine patch of skin.

Jim leans back a little and looks down.

Victor kisses Jim before gazing down at his thigh. His breathing accelerates anticipating the first cut. Victor’s cock is already painfully hard and his hips have started subtly rocking again.

“ _Sixteen…_

 _Seventeen._..”

Zsasz inhales a deep breath through his teeth before making the final incision.

“ _Eighteen…_ ”

Jim no longer feels the pain so much as the pleasure of belonging to Victor. He can feel his heart racing and beating hard in his chest. Fresh sweat pours down his neck and back. He wraps his arms around Victor’s neck after the final slice. He whispers before he plants his lips on Victor’s.

“I’m _yours_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh.
> 
> Honestly, guys. I really love this chapter. I'd say this one and the last one (which is not too far off now) are my faves. It's hard to believe we're almost done. 
> 
> I remember RPing this with Deya and I was just riveted by it. I mean, we both knew what we were aiming to accomplish when we set out to do it, but I was kinda staggered by it once we completed it.
> 
> I know this tale ain’t a traditional romance by any stretch of the imagination, but I really love the level of intimacy these two profoundly broken men share in this chapter. I think it’s just f*cking lovely.
> 
> I dunno, y'all. Maybe it's just me, but I think my favorite assassin has fallen very hard for Detective Gordon. 
> 
> *smiles sheepishly at Deya*
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> I love that these two have come to this. I'm a sucker for love and attraction that's a double edged sword. It's so utterly fragile but it burns so fierce. You hope for a happily ever after but with me and Jess that's a very loose idea. 
> 
> I hope you all stick around for the ending coming soon. 
> 
> I want to tip my hat to Jess for dealing with the last minute edits and reminding my ass about chapter publishing the day before. I've been off the radar with our huge move. Heck, I haven't even been able to draw all my Zsasz/Gordon smut like I want!
> 
> Till next time
> 
> ~FC
> 
>  


	19. Kiss the Cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has an eventful first half of the day getting to know some of Jim’s family.

—>z<—

Victor glances at the clock on the stove as he walks into the kitchen. Jim’s mom said they needed to be up by five. He’s pleased to see it’s a quarter ‘til. He walks a sticky dessert plate to the sink and washes it, mildly annoyed he didn’t clean it immediately after a second dessert with Jim late last night.

Zsasz briefly thinks about Jim’s cuts, but isn’t too concerned since they quickly tended to them, cleaning and rebandaging them —with _proper_ supplies this time. Victor kept a watchful eye on Jim throughout the night, thoroughly cleaned the floor and rechecked his cuts before heading downstairs.

Jim already coached him on how to make his coffee, so he measures the grounds and water to his exact specifications. He was pleased Mrs. Gordon had an adjustable tea kettle for the green and white tea. For now, he heats the water to a rolling boil for the Keemun.

He brews the leaves exactly four minutes and forty-five seconds, then pulls out the rock sugar in case Mrs. Gordon wants any. Zsasz also sets out the mug Jim specifically requested before pouring himself a cup of Keemun. He sighs after first sip.

Irene steps out of the bathroom fresh for the day. She has on a tank top with a thin loose blue plaid button up. She put her hair up and has on loose cargo pants with rolled up legs. She dons her house slippers and exits her room to make her and the boys breakfast.

She comes into the kitchen area and sees Victor sitting with a cup of tea. She beams the man a huge smile.

“Good morning, Victor!”

Victor smiles warmly.

“Hi, Mrs. Gordon. I made us some Keemun. You take sugar?”

Irene stops at the table where he’s sitting.

“Well sure, darling! I have to admit, I have never tried that but I’m willing to give it a go! No sugar please. I’m about to make pancakes with eggs and bacon. I also have fruit and whipped cream if you so choose.”

Victor pours her a cup and hands it to her.

“Ceylon’s closer to what you served last night, but I really like the Keemun. I don’t eat bacon, but the rest sounds great. Sure. Happy to help.”

Irene nods as she takes a careful sip of the tea.

“Oh, this is so good! Well sure, since you don’t eat bacon, I will handle that. I have batter in the fridge all mixed and ready to go. I don’t suppose you know if James is awake already?”

“He’s up, but I think he’s a little tired. I’ll do the eggs. You like yours sunny side up like Jim does?”

Irene smirks over her tea and nods.

“I sure do!”

She hands Victor an iron skillet then heads to the the fridge to remove the batter. She grabs a non-stick pan and places it on a burner. She turns the gas on and keeps the flame low. She glances at the Victor and beams.

_He’s dressed like he’s still in Gotham, layered and in all black._

She shakes her head and watches as he takes out the eggs and gets out a tray of butter. She takes another sip of her tea and decides to question him while Jim isn’t around.

“So, Victor. I have a question. Perhaps you can indulge this old woman?”

Victor smiles over a shoulder, winking.

“Fire away. (He arches a brow.) _What_ old woman?”

Irene smiles and shakes her head.

“You flatter me so! Well, I am going to be serious for a moment and I need the truth. The god’s honest _truth_. It will be just be between you and me.”

Victor looks back at her, affable and open-faced, waiting for her question.

Irene assesses the heat of her pan and adds a slice of butter. She leans in and gives Victor a focused and keen eye.

“How long have you and Jim been together? As lovers?”

Victor’s thrown by Mrs. Gordon’s first question —in particular, “together”. He doesn’t _do_ “together”. When she clarifies with “as lovers”, he assumes she’s asking how long they’ve been fucking. He screws up his face, crinkles a brow and looks up for a moment before shrugging.

“Uhh… I dunno. Maybe a few weeks now?”

Irene pours the batter and nods as Victor explains. She liked this man, straightforward and to the point.

“I suspected he was in love. I can see it, the way he looks at you.”

She can see in her peripherals Victor react to “ _in love_ ”. She turns and quickly clarifies not wanting Victor to get the wrong idea.

“Now, don’t go getting your pants all in a wad. I mean he’s very _interested_ in you. I like you Victor and so does my boy. I find all this very shocking and new to me so I’m finding it hard to act accordingly. Just know, he has some curse about him with women.”

She shakes her head as she eyes the pancake in the pan. She continues.

“He seems to lose them as quickly as he gets them. Maybe you’re what he needs at this point in time.”

Irene shrugs and flips the pancake. She beams back at Victor and asks.

“Do you like honey or maple syrup with yours?”

Victor bites his lower lip as he leans into her and smiles to one side of his face.

“Maple syrup, please.”

Irene takes out the maple syrup from the pantry and brings out a waffle iron. She plugs it in and sets the syrup on the table. She then heads back to making more pancakes for Victor.

“I’m sure if I had asked James about you and him, he would have waved it off like I was nuts. I like that you don’t keep secrets.”

She side glances Victor as she pours more batter into the pan.

Jim emerges from upstairs after they have the pancakes, waffles and bacon done. He strolls in the kitchen and gives his mother a kiss and beams a smile at Victor.

“Good morning.”

Victor returns the smile and immediately starts Jim’s and his mom’s eggs, nodding towards the coffeemaker.

“Your coffee’s ready. I got that mug you wanted.”

Jim smiles and pours his cup. He can see his mother glancing at him and smiling with a raised eyebrow. Jim clears his throat and sits at the table.

“So what’s on the list of things to do before everyone shows up?”

Irene points to the fridge with tons of magnets and pictures all hanging up. A piece of paper with a list of things that need to get completed hangs there. Jim gets up and removes it. He grins and returns to the table.

“Looks like I’m going to be _very_ busy.”

As Jim and his mother discuss their to do list, Victor plates up their food. He heads to the refrigerator and pulls out the whipped cream and fruit.

“Mrs. Gordon, do you eat your pancakes with strawberries and cream too?”

Irene grins and glances at Jim. She pats Jim’s shoulder and chuckles as he gives Victor a mortified look.

“No, hon. As _we all know,_ only James likes them that way. I like only one with a bit of honey, thank you.”

She winks at Victor.

—

At six thirty, there’s a ruckus at the front door.

“Irene! Open the damn door; my hands are full! Shit hurry! I’m spilling the fucking jello!”

Irene’s in the middle of getting the ribs and other meats seasoned. She looks at Victor.

“Can you get that for me?”

Victor quickly strides to the door. He opens it and finds a woman struggling with her load. He immediately catches the spilling jello and intercepts a falling sack from her arm. The flustered woman gawks wide-eyed at the unusually dressed and hairless man helping her with her loaded arms. She eyes him up and down then says in a thick southern accent.

“Why thank you kindly but _who the hell_ are you?”

“I’m Victor.”

The portly woman in a thin and ruffled chiffon dress curtly replies back.

“I’m Edna. Irene, there’s a vampire in your living room!”

The woman hustles into the house and finds her sister in the kitchen. Irene aims her basting spoon at her and says in a stern voice.

“Edna! Be nice.”

Victor walks into the kitchen with Edna’s jello and sack.

“Mrs. Gordon, where would you like these?”

“Put the jello in the fridge, hon. Edna, this is Victor Zsasz, a friend of James. He’s not a vampire, _Edna!_ ”

She smacks her sister on the arm. Edna drops all of her stuff on the table and approaches Victor. She looks him up and down with her hands on her hips.

“A Gothamite?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Edna smiles and turns to Irene.

“Gotta hand it to city boys, they know how to dress. He’s cute too.”

Victor stretches a wide grin at Edna and leans in, winking.

“You flatter me.”

He reaches for Edna’s hand to kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Edna.”

He returns Edna’s hand and turns to Jim’s mother.

“Anything else I can help with here, Mrs. Gordon?”

Irene smiles and says.

“No, Victor. Not for awhile. Everything is waiting for time to get closer and James will start the smoker for the meats here in a second. Thank you, go on and relax.”

___________

The party is now in full swing. Victor spends most of the morning and early afternoon helping Jim’s mom and aunt. As more people arrive, the house becomes increasingly crowded so he heads outside. He finds it markedly warmer than it was earlier and the day unseasonably warm.

Zsasz meanders over to see if any barbecue’s ready. He was impressed to discover Jim knows his way around a smoker and is eager to try some. He grabs a plate and loads up with beef ribs and chicken. There’s no place to sit, so he eats standing.

“Hi! Are you looking for a place to sit? You can sit next to me.”

A young cute blonde girl pats the space next to her. She eyes Victor in a suggestive way. She scoots, bumping the young teen boy next to her over. He turns to her and yells.

“Watch it, Beth!”

She roughly shoves the boy over and smiles at Victor, who nods at the young woman and scrupulously eyes the teenaged boy. Once seated, he silently continues eating.

“My name’s Beth.”

She bats her eyes at Victor. She then looks him up and down. She leans in and bubbly states with a giggle.

“I’m eighteen by the way.”

Victor continues eating for a while before he notices she’s looking at him like she’s waiting for something. He stops eating momentarily and nods.

“I’m Victor.”

The young teen boy next to her leans in and adds smugly.

“You’re not eighteen. You’re _fifteen_. I’m telling your dad you are such a little _slut!_ ”

The girl turns around and shoves the boy. She shouts as she walks away in a huff.

“You’re such a _jerk,_ Dennis!”

The boy smiles at Victor but looks him up and down and laughs.

“Why are you dressed like that? It’s barely Fall, you big dummy!”

Victor glances down at his clothes and casually shrugs.

“This is how I dress.”

Dennis scoffs and laughs.

“You look dumb.”

The boy gets up and walks away. A woman behind Victor curses and looks around.

“Um, excuse me.”

The woman leans over and taps Victor on the shoulder. Zsasz stops eating, wipes his mouth and turns to face the woman. She’s holding a sleeping baby, no older than a few months old.

“Can you please hold my baby? I see my oldest has found the chocolate pudding, is currently covered in it and entering the house. It will be just a few minutes, please?”

The woman holds the pudgy baby out to Victor. Her eyes pleading for the favor.

Not much surprises Victor, but this is... _different_. He blinks and freezes momentarily, before setting down his plate on the chair beside him. He wipes his hands before tentatively holding them outward.

Sara shoves the baby into Victor’s hands and runs for her eldest kid making a mess in the living room.

Jim exits the backdoor to return to the grill. He sees his cousin, Sara, handing Victor her baby. He freezes and watches on in horror (and curiosity).

_OH god…_

Victor narrows his gaze, tilts his head quizzically and slightly opens his mouth. He holds the baby an arm’s length away, lifting it and rotating it around to study. Everything on it is so… _small_.

The baby wakes and looks at Victor. Its little features all scrunch at the unfamiliar face. A loud screeching wail pierces the air as the baby starts to wiggle.

Victor widens his eyes and blinks with surprise. He pulls back his head for a better look at the wiggling and crying infant. Were it a normal-sized human, he could easily get it to _stop_ crying and wiggling, or  _start_ for that matter ( _especially_ start). He squints at the tiny being, curious to see exactly how much fight it has and how loud it can get. Zsasz scrunches one side of his face and tilts his head.

Edna hustles over to Victor. She laughs and reaches for the baby.

“I got this, city boy. Let me save you from the mean ol’ baby!”

Victor pulls down the corners of his mouth and gives an impressed nod.

“Kid’s got spunk.”

“That he does, especially when they’re my kids and grandkids. How are you not burning up out here?”

Edna bounces her grandbaby on her hip and eyes Victor. She begins fanning herself.

Victor _i_ _s_ feeling the heat. After finishing the last bite of his barbecue, he reaches for his glass of tea and shakes it before chugging it down.

“Staying hydrated helps.” He scrunches his mouth at the disposable cup that now contains nothing but ice. “I probably _should_ get more to drink.”

“There’s a couple of ice chests with drinks that some of the men brought. Sitting just over yonder by the sliding glass doors. I’m going to put this little booger bag down for a nap.”

Jim peers over at Victor from the grill and smiles. The look on Victor’s face when he held the baby was too comical to tear his gaze from. He flicks the two sausages he charred off the grill and into the coals.

Victor tosses his plate and cup in the trash and heads for the ice chest. On the way, he opens his jacket, grabs it by the lapels and starts fanning them to cool off, before deciding to remove it altogether. He hooks it on an index finger and tosses it over a shoulder. He slips another finger under his collar. When he realizes how much he’s sweating, he unbuttons his top two buttons.

Two men next to the ice chests eye Victor warily but they quickly offer thin-lipped smiles.

“It’s a hot one!”

Victor nods.

“Uh huh.”

“There’s plenty of cold brew here my man.”

Victor checks out the ice chest, but it only seems to have beer. He was hoping for a water, but would settle for a soda.

The one man leans into the other and elbows him. Then whispers loudly.

“City folk, probably only use to the expensive _hipster_ stuff.”

The other man laughs.

Victor ignores the conversation that doesn’t concern him. He turns around, points a thumb over at the ice chest.

“This is all beer. I don’t drink alcohol all that much. Any chance you guys know where I can getta water or soda?”

The two men smirk. The taller one points to a cooler by the picnic tables.

“There’s root beer over in that chest.”

The smaller man laughs and nods.

“Okie dokie. Thanks.”

Three small kids run in front of Victor, two boys whiz by as a small pig-tailed blonde girl chases after them. The girl trips and falls right in Victor’s path. Zsasz hasn’t much time to react or option to get around her. He curls his upper body and somersaults over the fallen kid, before effortlessly righting himself again.

The little girl looks on in amazement. The other two little boys come back for their fallen sister but watch as the tall stranger does a trick. The three of them say in unison:

“Wow!”

The little girl smooths back her blonde curls and gets up dusting off her little dress. She and her brothers, the three of them between the ages of six and ten, run up to Victor and exclaim.

“Are you ninja?”

“No, he’s a superhero!”

“Do it again!”

Zsasz looks down and respectively addresses each kid.

“No and no. I’m Victor. Sure. It’s easy.”

He nonchalantly shrugs and repeats the maneuver.

“You want me to show you how to do it?”

The little girl jumps up and down.

“I can do a cartwheel!”

Her two brothers chime in.

“Show us, Victor! I wanna try!’

“Me too!”

Victor tosses his jacket over a nearby lawnchair. He shows the kids how to do flips and somersaults. They weren’t great, but they were _definitely_ enthusiastic. (They also listened a lot better than some of his men.)

Zsasz leaves the kids to practice what they learned when he _really_ starts feeling the heat. He collects his jacket and heads for the ice chest the men told him about. He grabs a bottle, opens it and chugs the entire thing down in seconds. After finishing it, he scowls realizing it wasn’t root beer, but _actual_ beer. He wrinkles his nose.

_Too late now._

Jim begins plating the sausages when he glances at Victor. He sees him chug a whole bottle of 12% alcohol beer from one of the beer chests. He raises both of his brows in surprise.

_I had no idea Victor drank._

Victor decides he’ll have better luck in the house. Maybe Mrs. Gordon still has some iced tea. He treks across the large yard. The more he walks, the more he feels the effects of the heat, the physical exertion from all the somersaults _and especially_ the alcohol.

Jim makes his way to the sliding glass doors and watches as Victor starts weaving his way back to the house.

_Oh, Victor most definitely does NOT drink alcohol!_

Jim smirks.

The two men at the ice chest bump elbows with each other and laugh at Victor. The smaller man shouts.

“You should have went easy, buddy, they are strong _brews!”_

Victor walks up the porch, albeit not very well. Jim walks towards the back door with the plate of sausages, but pauses and waits for Victor. He smirks and asks with some amusement.

“You okay?”

Victor swaggers up to Jim, his grin wide. He leans in really close and nudges Jim’s neck, batting his eyes.

“Hi, babe. I didn’t know you were so great on the grill.” Zsasz suggestively asks, “Any chance I can _kiss the cook_?”

Jim flashes Victor a horrified glance. He looks around and notices his two cousins (by marriage) at the ice chest looking on with raised eyebrows.

“Victor, come inside with me. No kissing the cook while we have eyes on us.”

Zsasz moves in a little closer, a little unsteady on his feet.

“C’mon, babe. Just a _peck_?”

Jim almost drops the plate but saves it. He says through gritted teeth in a hushed tone.

“Victor —get a hold of yourself.”

As Victor begins reaching for Jim’s waist, Irene comes out and takes the sausage plate from Jim.

“Finally they’re done. Uh, Victor, hon, I made more iced tea. Why don't you come in and get refreshed some?”

Jim breathes out in relief when his mother distracts Victor.

Zsasz walks into the house and unbuttons a third button. He’s sweating profusely and his shirt clings to his body. He hangs his jacket behind a chair at the breakfast nook before heading to the refrigerator to pour himself a glass of tea. He chugs it down immediately and pours himself another, downing it just as quickly.

Two kids run by the breakfast nook with ballon animals that they brought with them. They go running outside with a huge trash bag full of them as Jim approaches Victor.

“You okay? Are you drunk?”

Jim laughs as he sits down at the breakfast nook and eyes his sweaty lover as he chugs down his third glass of iced tea.

Victor smiles and gazes appreciatively at Jim and saunters toward him. He plops himself into the chair beside him, looks up and crinkles a brow before nodding. He leans into Jim, grinning wide.

“Maybe a _little_.”

Jim looks around. The women are busy chatting in the kitchen. He rubs Victor’s leg and smiles at him.

“Maybe you should stay inside till it wears off some.”

Victor leans in and nudges Jim, replying suggestively.

“You gonna stay in here with me? I dunno, maybe even _take advantage_ of me?”

Jim immediately stands up and yanks Victor out of his seat. He then walks towards the garage door. Victor obediently follows the detective, stepping on his heels and almost tripping. Jim quickly turns around and steadies the loopy assassin. He sees that Victor is indeed drunk —trashed even.

_On one beer no less. Lightweight._

He opens the door to the garage. The garage doors are down and the only way in is through the house door. He waits for Victor to stumble into the garage with him before he closes the door. He turns to Victor and smiles salaciously.

“Yes, I would love to take advantage of you.”

Victor grabs the back of Jim’s neck and pulls him in for a big sloppy kiss. The intoxication heightens his senses and slows his reflexes _just_ enough for him to _really_ appreciate just how incredible the inside of Jim’s mouth is, the sensation rich and thick. He loudly moans at how much more acutely his body seems to react to Jim’s.

Jim presses himself to Victor as his large mouth haphazardly engulfs his own. Victor’s swaying body almost makes Jim fall over; the assassin is not a light man. Jim pulls back from the kiss and smiles.

“My drunk lover. You’re so incredibly sweaty. Wish we were completely alone so I could rip off all of our clothes to feel you slip and slide _all over_ me.”

Victor’s body charges with Jim’s words. He paws at Jim’s groin, greedily rubbing him. Not long after, he removes his hand and pulls Jim close to rub his waking erection against the man.

Jim pulls away from Victor’s greedy hands and smirks. He heads to an ice chest and takes out an ice cube. He plops it in his mouth and looks back at Victor.

Victor smiles, yanks his shirt from his pants and unbuttons it as quickly as possible before grabbing Jim’s forearm and pulling him close. He paws at the bottom of Jim’s t-shirt trying to remove it.

Jim stops Victor from undressing him and shakes his head. Jim takes him by the hand and guides him to the door. He pushes Victor up to it, his back flat against. He then quickly unbuckles Victor’s belt and unfastens two buttons and a zipper. He pulls down the assassin’s pants and boxer briefs just enough to get at his prize.

His begins stroking Victor with his right hand. He leans in and starts trailing kisses on his chest, gliding the large ice cube on his hot sweaty skin. He slowly makes his way down and visits one of Victor’s nipples first.

He rolls the ice cube on Victor’s right nipple then lets the tip of his chilly tongue swirl on his areola. He gently wraps his lips around the perky nub and gives it a small bite.

Victor rests his head against the door as Jim teases him with the ice cube. The frigid sensation is slightly dulled by the beer, but somehow stretched just enough to make it feel more decadent and rich. Zsasz twitches when Jim nibbles his tiny peak and reaches to palm the man through his jeans.

Jim unlatches Victor from his cock and wags a finger at him. Jim descends to his knees and licks at Victor’s. He quickly takes him into his chilly mouth and plays with him, guiding the quickly melting ice cube up and down his shaft.

Victor closes his eyes and sucks in a long breath through his teeth, making a hissing sound before biting his lower lip in response to the ice and Jim’s chilly mouth. His length twitches and thighs quiver from the sensation and temperature. It doesn’t take long for him to adjust and begin pumping into Jim’s mouth.

Jim swallows the salty cock. A soft moan escapes him; he wishes the day was over so he could have Victor all to himself. The ice cube has already melted into nothing but he doesn't want stop to get another. He grabs Victor’s hips in both hands and starts sucking. He wiggles his tongue on the back of his shaft in rapid motions, his nose nudging his body tightly.

He pulls back and takes a breath then plunges back onto him. He does this a few times then takes Zsasz into his hand and strokes him softly. Jim looks up at Victor and smirks.

“I think I have an undying love affair with your cock.”

Victor gazes down dreamily at Jim as he pumps.

“I think the feeling’s mutual.” He bites his lower lip and strokes the detective’s face. “I wanna _feel_ you, Jim. _Taste_ you.”

Jim rises from his knees and presses his body onto Victor, making him fall back onto the door. He keeps his hand stroking Victor. Jim leans in and softly kisses him, his left hand cupping his face. Jim pulls back and speeds up his strokes. He gives him a mischievous smirk and mocks sternly.

“Don’t be in such a hurry.”

Victor chuckles when Jim uses his own words against him, but keeps thrusting into _that_ hand. Zsasz wraps his hand behind Jim’s neck and pulls him close, foreheads touching before pulling him in for another kiss.

“Okay. No hurry.”

Jim nuzzles Victor’s neck as he works his hand below. His tongue lapping at his sweaty, salty skin.

“You taste so good, better than anything being served here today. Even better than strawberries and cream.

Victor groans and his brow softens, biting his lip at Jim’s adroit hand. He’s already feeling the warmth spread into his thighs and the luscious pressure building behind his dick. His jaw slackens and he starts pumping harder and faster into Jim’s hand.

Jim hears the echoing footsteps of someone approaching on the other side of the door. He stops and stuffs Victor back into his pants, whispering urgently.

“Shit someone’s coming! Get yourself together, hurry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t act like y’all didn’t know FC was gonna make us stop right in the middle of our little tryst in the garage, especially after that sh!t in Harvey’s office. SMH
> 
> If all y’all are wondering why this whole barbecue thang sounds so southern/Texan, it’s probably ‘cause FC and I are *both* Texans. I’m laughin’ at all the Texas colloquialisms FC wrote. I personally don’t have the infamous Texas drawl since I’m a snooty Dallasite and we’re too siddity for that kinda thing. (I, however, am not too siddity to say "y'all" or "fixin' to".)
> 
> Wait. I actually got the flippin' honor of meeting FC in actual *person* a couple months back and she didn't have much of a drawl either! Coincidentally, I recently also got to meet Ben McKenzie (another Texan, from Austin) and his gorgeous wifey, Morena! He's a cool cat, y'all. (And yeah. They really *are* that gorgeous in person. It was ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as how I acted. Fortunately, they were total class acts about it.)
> 
> *Jess grins remembering the favor she did for Deya and recalling what she got to tell Ben!*
> 
> 'Kay. Sorry 'bout that. Back to our fic. This was a hilarious RP. I remember thinking there was no way we’d be able to this whole thing in one sitting, but we did. It was a crazy marathon night for FC. She played every-damb-body but Victor. I got to kick back and relax, until she threw the next thing at me, anyway. 
> 
> My personal fave though? Gettin’ a little smashed and tryin’ to smooch on my Jimbo -and... the whole garage thing... *boom*chicka*wow*wow*
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> Me and Jess are like Peas and carrots. Marshmallows and sweet potatoes. She's the sea salt to my dark chocolate. The Dallas uptown girl to my Marion/Seguin backwoods farm girl. Truth be told this girl is way raunchier and nastier than me. hahah XD I thought I was a dirty minded thing but she takes the whole fucking cake. I LOVE IT!!
> 
> I screamed when she met Ben and told him the story of Dirty Dick Gordon. I need to frame the pic of his pained smile while autographing my fanart! My husband still struts knowing that it made it to Ben's ears.
> 
> This chapter was a mental gymnastic for me. Holy shit. So the RP I told her to just have Zsasz walk around the house and backyard and I will interject with an event. So she will be in the middle of typing and I will jump in and start an interaction. I slept hard after this RP lol
> 
> When I made Edna I pictured Kathy Bates. Yeah I gave them all those 1950s names. I searched popular baby names for that era. I'm also a woman that hates the suburbs with all my heart. The people I knew in the burbs were underhanded, greedy and yes--mean conniving fucks. I wanted to write a little of that in. 
> 
> Past experiences are the reason why I live on acres away from civilization. Jess was horrified when I told her I shop at Walmart. It's all that is close to my homestead. I would have to drive 35-40 minutes for real shopping. But I’m not complaining. :)
> 
> ANYWAYS. I went off on a tangent. The end is coming. So, you come on back, you hear?!
> 
> ~FC (fm)


	20. Last Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor continues to mingle with the Gordon family. Jim watches on, still plagued with nagging thoughts.

Jim runs to the ice chest and grabs the handle. The door to the garage opens but hits Victor’s back. A male voice calls out.

“Uh...what the? Hey Jim, you in there?”

Zsasz works hard to correctly line up his buttons and fasten them as quickly as possible. He stuffs his shirt back into his pants and shoots Jim a questioning look, still blocking the door. Jim nods back.

“Hey Antonio, I’m in here! Just getting some ice and more drinks for the outside coolers.”

Victor heads for “the drinks” in case the interrupter walks in, resentfully thinking _he_ should be the one “cumming” — _not_ this Antonio person Jim is so worried about.

Antonio opens the door and looks in with a questioning look. He then checks the door hinges and the floor.

“What’s wrong with the door? I couldn't open it.”

The man shrugs, eyes Victor, then turns his attention to Jim.

“Hey man, want me to transfer the stuff in the cooker to the picnic tables? The timers went off.”

Jim nods and heaves the chest in his hands.

“Yeah, thanks. That would be great.”

The man gives Victor a quick glance then turns and leaves. Jim shoots his lover an evil smirk.

Victor sets down the case of drinks and saunters over to Jim. He slides a hand past the waistband of his jeans and slips his fingers down into his boxers. He swipes at Jim’s half erect cock and fondles the tip, collecting his precum with his fingertips. He smirks with satisfaction as he lifts them to his mouth and takes a long appreciative lick.

“Mmm…”

Jim watches as Victor takes advantage of the fact he’s carrying an ice chest to grab at him. His eyes follow as his fingers reach up to his mouth, his tongue coming out to lap at the sticky digits. Jim watches on mesmerized and almost loses grip of the chest; he shuffles to steady it. He shakes his head at Victor and laughs as his mother calls out from inside the house.

“James, do you need help with the ice? We have some coolers that need refreshing.”

Jim takes a breath in and nods over to the other chest.

“Grab that one too, unless you’re still inebriated.”

Jim smirks and heads back into the house while Victor snorts out an idle laugh. Zsasz lifts the chest and carries it in front of his waist, hoping he can calm his body by the time he sets it down. He takes a deep resolute breath and puffs out a long sigh before following Jim outside.

By the time Victor’s made it past the porch and into the yard, he’s fairly certain he can walk around without drawing too much attention to himself. He surreptitiously adjusts himself against the chest before setting it down. Fortunately, this one has sodas. He grabs one for himself and walks around before stopping to check out the kids practicing what he taught them earlier.

Two kids with balloon animals walk behind Victor and begin twisting on the bulbous creatures.

“HA! Watch this!”

A kid twists his balloon animal and the head pops loudly right behind Victor. The moment he hears it, he reflexively unsheathes his hidden karambit and quickly turns around, prepared to throw it —only to discover it’s just a couple of kids.

The two kids stagger back and eyeball Victor, both too stunned to react. They drop their balloons. Jim runs up, grabs Victor’s wrist and hides the knife from plain view of the others. He smiles and whispers.

“Easy, lover. It’s just some balloons.”

Victor scrunches up his face.

“Oops. Sorry.”

The two kids smile and look at Victor expectantly as Jim walks off to refresh the coolers.

“Hey Mister, what kind of knife is that?”

Victor addresses the kids as he squats. “It’s a karambit. Check it out.”

The three kids practicing their somersaults rush over when they see Victor. They gather around and look at the knife with amazement. All the kids emit sounds of awe.

One of the mothers, curious about what all the little ones are looking at, approaches to see what the strange bald man is showing them. Her eyes pop wide open as her lips purse; she stomps the rest of the way over.

“Excuse me, just what are you showing these little children with that knife?”

“Well, right now? I’m just showing them the knife, but I _can_ show them stuff _with_ the knife if you _really_ want—.”

The woman interrupts Victor and claps her hands to get the children’s attention.

“You kids go on inside and wash your hands. Now. Go. Go. The picnic table has all your plates ready.”

As the kids leave reluctantly, she huffs before storming off.

“Keep your knife to yourself.”

Victor shrugs and sheathes his karambit before walking back towards the house and up the porch. At that moment, a kid comes running out of the house with a plate full of food. His macaroni is practically a tower on the edge of his plate.

“Hold on, Ma. I’m a get a soda!”

The boy doesn’t see Victor coming up to the house and accidentally plasters his plate onto the man. The cheesy contents smoosh and smear all over Victor’s shirt and pants. The boy gasps and looks on in shock as the paper plate sticks to its victim. He quickly peels the plate off and looks up.

“Oh gee. I’m sorry, Mister Victor. I didn’t see you there.”

Victor slowly blinks and opens his mouth, looking down in complete disbelief at the state of his clothes. Dennis catches the scene from where he is seated. He points and laughs as hard as he can.

“Look at you! You look so stupid! They should call you Mister Macaroni Pants!

Dennis laughs out loud. Beth throws a roll at him and hisses at him to shut up. The boy continues to laugh undeterred.

Victor clenches his jaw and glares at the laughing teen before returning his attention to Mac-n-Cheese. Zsasz bends down and rests his hands on his knees, momentarily looking downward. He presses his lips together, takes a deep breath and briefly nods before gazing back at the kid, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Accidents happen. Sometimes they’re messy and ya gotta clean ‘em up. I’ve made _lotsa_ big messes I had to clean up after. C’mon. Let’s clean _this_ one up, get your soda and some more food.”

Zsasz messes up Mac-n-Cheese’s hair, before playfully pushing his head back into the house.

“You’d _better_ have left some mac-n-cheese too, ‘cause I’m gettin’ hungry.”

Victor glares at Dennis the Asshole as he walks Mac-n-Cheese back inside.

Irene takes notice of Victor’s state of emergency. She hustles over to him as Edna follows.

“Oh dear! That’s a mighty mess. Do you have another change of clothing, sweetie?”

Edna shakes her head and sighs.

“The best dressed man here and he’s now a plate of macaroni.”

Victor shakes his head and puffs out a defeated sigh.

“I’m usually prepared for anything, but _not_ this time.”

He scrunches up his face and scratches the back of his head.

“Actually no. I don’t.” He points over his shoulder. “Oh. There’s a big mess on the porch I was about to take care of.”

Irene pats his shoulder and shakes her head.

“No, I will handle it. James has some clothes here you might could wear, though I think they may be too small for you. You’re a much bigger man than him.”

Edna smirks and points at his chest and shoulders.

“Especially around here — _definitely_.”

Irene smacks Edna on the shoulder and shushes her.

“Go on Victor. Go get cleaned up.”

Victor grabs paper towels and collects as much food as he can off himself before pitching it all into the waste bin with annoyance. To add insult to injury, he notices a dollop of mac-n-cheese on Mrs. Gordon’s espadrilles. He puffs out an annoyed huff as he nods down at them.

”Mrs. Gordon, I think you got some on you too.”

Jim’s mother looks down and wiggles her toes in the shoe before wiping the food off and tossing it in the garbage. 

”These old things? They’re just for runnin’ around in, hon.” She rubs his arm in reassurance. “It’s okay. _Really_. Now go on.”

He nods and makes way upstairs. He hits the head, removes his boots, soiled clothing and sweaty boxer briefs. He washes up, running cold water over his head, neck and upper body before collecting his boots and heading to Jim’s room in search of something to wear. Zsasz isn’t thrilled about the state of his clothes, but he is grateful for the opportunity to cool off.

He rummages for something that might fit. He finds a couple of button downs, but the sleeves barely make it past his deltoids. He keeps digging and finds a white Friday the 13th t-shirt with long black sleeves. He slips it over his frame. It’s tight, but it fits. He also finds a pair of lightweight black sweat shorts with a tie front. They’re also snug, but passable.

He gives himself the once over in the mirror. It isn’t the fit of the clothes that gives him pause so much as how casual they are. Since Victor spends so much time working, he rarely dresses down. The attire was definitely more comfortable and far more suitable for outdoor wear (especially given the heat of the day), but they still feel a little weird. He briefly scrunches his face to the side before shrugging it off. He puts his boots back on and heads downstairs for the kitchen.

Edna sees him enter the kitchen and whistles.

“Holy smokes! It ain't the clothes that makes _this_ man. It’s that smoking hot bod of his! Boy, howdy! Mm-MMM!”

All the women turn and gawk at Victor. A couple of them smile really big and approach him. Irene turns from a pot and smirks, then admonishes her sister — _again_.

“Edna! For the love of all that is holy. You are so forward!”

Irene smiles and shakes her head.

“I suppose that would be the only thing that fits you. Would you like some tea, sweetie?”

One of the women holds up an icy pitcher and eyes Victor up and down. She bites her lower lip.

Victor strolls over to Edna and wraps an arm around her. He leans down and pecks her cheek as he replies to Jim’s mom.

“Tea would be great, Mrs. Gordon.”

Victor grins at the woman offering him the pitcher, tilting his head and flashing his teeth.

“ _Thank_ you.”

He takes the pitcher and walks it over to a counter top. He opens the cabinet for a glass, but there aren’t any up front anymore. The only ones left are either shoved to the other side of the cabinet or up on the very top shelf. He inches up on his toes and leans over to grab one. He sets it on the counter and addresses Jim’s mom over a shoulder.

“Mrs. Gordon, I’m gonna pull these other ones out so they’re easier to get to.”

He returns his attention to the other glasses on the top shelf and moves them to the lower one.

“Lemme wash some more glasses too. It’s gettin’ pretty hot out there.”

All the women watch him with undivided attention. Irene blushes and smacks the women to look the other way. Victor’s ass and thighs stretch the fabric of the tight sweat shorts. Not only that, but the small of his back, abs and legs are bare for all to see. The women all let out various giggles and soft gasps.

Edna places her hands on her hips and nods.

“I think I need to move to the city.”

“Oh uh, thank you Victor sweetie. That’s very thoughtful.”

He pours himself a big glass of iced tea and leans against the counter. He raises it up to his mouth and quickly chugs it, spilling a little down his chin. He stops drinking and tries to catch it with the back of a hand.

The women keep staring even though Irene and Edna smack them to go about their business. One of the women saunters up to him and offers a towel to dry his chin. The rest of the women surround him and smile. Victor grins sheepishly after spilling.

“Oops. I should probably slow down, huh?”

He flashes his teeth and smiles at the lady offering him the towel, thanking her as he accepts it. She bats her eyes at him.

“I don’t suppose a man like you has a girlfriend or wife?”

The other women glare at her. Victor casually responds as he shakes his head.

“Nope. No girlfriend. No wife.”

The women all smile and continue to assess him with interest. Irene whistles loudly and states in a threatening tone.

“Everyone back to work, or so help me I will get your men in here!”

Edna laughs and continues icing a cake.

“As if any of these suburban girls had a chance.”

Victor walks his glass over to the sink and begins tackling the glasses he said he’d help with. He gawks at Edna’s cake, hoping for a taste of at least the frosting.

“Wow, Miss Edna. Your cake looks delicious. Need any help over there?”

Edna turns to Victor and smirks. She shakes her head but points towards the living room.

“I don’t need help, son. But if you don’t mind, in the living room, can you turn on the radio? We have the speakers outside. Choose a station you like. Anything is better than listening to the men folk talk about golf and fiscal responsibility.”

Victor nods and saunters over to the radio and turns it on. He’s unfamiliar with the area’s radio stations and everything’s playing commercials. He randomly picks something that doesn't sound like talk radio, before returning to the kitchen to wash the glasses, still eyeballing Edna’s cake.

Edna smirks at Victor and hands him her icing spatula, loaded with cream cheese frosting. She chuckles as he eagerly accepts the utensil, shoves it in his mouth and cleans it with one full indulgent swipe. Victor beams with satisfaction.

“ _Mmm…_ Oh. That reminds me. I never got to try your jello. Is it in here or outside?”

Edna places the cover on the cake pedestal over the confectionary. She moves it to the table as she addresses him.

“It’s outside at the picnic table. Better hurry, I’m sure the kids probably have it all down by now.”

Victor abandons the glasses and jogs back outside toward the picnic tables hoping he’s not too late. A little girl squeals off to the side of the house.

“Stop it, Dennis! I’m telling!”

“What you gonna tell them? That I pulled your stupid pigtails. Such a cry baby!”

Dennis shoves the little girl to the ground. The girl begins to cry; her two brothers come around at the sounds of her wailing.

“You better stop!”

“I’m going to kick your butt!”

Dennis laughs as he shoves the two boys.

Victor’s had it with Dennis the Asshole. He squares his jaw and marches over to the teen who’s laughing as he towers over the little kids he pushed. Zsasz clamps his hand around Dennis’ neck and drags him further back around the house.

Dennis is caught by surprise that an adult would manhandle him. He chokes out.

“Hey!!”

Dennis tries to kick Victor and starts flailing. Zsasz avoids the teen’s kicks and flailing arms and legs with little effort as he calls out to the kids.

“Hey. You guys wanna see something cool?”

The other kids from the picnic table all look at each other and sneak off to join the rest. They all smile and cover their mouths to stifle their giggles when they see their tormentor unable to fight back. The kids nod their heads and watch Victor with large eyes.

Victor smiles down at the kids and adroitly secures Dennis the Asshole in a headlock.

“This is a headlock. See how he can’t get away? That means you’re doing it right. Check it out. The harder he fights, the weaker he gets —but ya still gotta watch those hands though, ‘cause they can hit you in the face.”

The kids all nod and giggle. Dennis claws at the arm around his neck and continues to struggle.

Jim looks over at the picnic table and does a double take. He sets the spatula down and looks around. He slowly makes his way over.

Victor clamps his leg around Dennis’ to keep him from kicking the other kids. The teen is too busy struggling to get out of the headlock to see the maneuver coming.

“You’ve also gotta be careful with those legs and feet, too. Did you know if you kicked or punched Dennis right now, he couldn’t fight back? Does anybody wanna give it a try and see?”

The little blonde girl he shoved comes up first, a mean look in her eyes. Her blonde curls are a mess from Dennis pulling her hair. She aims and punches Dennis in the junk. Her aim true and her blow the hardest she can muster.

Dennis wails and stops struggling. His little balls feel as though they are trying to crawl up into his body.

“You’re the stupid one!”

She then kicks his shin and steps back. She gives Victor a huge smile. Zsasz pulls down the corners of his mouth and gives the small girl an impressed nod.

“ _Nice_ job. Anyone else? Oh wait. I have a better idea. How ‘bout _everyone_ else?”

Her two brothers come up at the same time and both punch him in the stomach. The other kids join in and all start kicking and punching Dennis.

Jim walks around the corner and sees that Dennis the Devil Child is getting roughed up by all his cousins. He's about to reprimand Victor but stops and shrugs. He glances towards the main backyard and notices that Sara is searching for the kids. He quickly goes to intercept her path and lead her back inside.

After all the kids have a turn, Zsasz nods down at everyone.

“ _Nice_ job, guys. That was lotsa fun, right?”

The kids all nod and giggle with their hands over their mouths. Victor leans into Dennis’ ear.

“I didn’t hear _you_ say anything Dennis. What’s the matter? Didn’t you have fun, too?”

Dennis is too busy crying to answer Victor. Jim reappears from around the corner; he addresses the children with some amusement.

“Hey, how about we all go back to the picnic table? There’s paper, glue, glitter and colors waiting.”

Jim smiles at Victor but laughs as he takes in his change of attire as the oddly-dressed assassin taunts the teen.

“Guess playtime’s _over_ , Dennis. Unless you wanna _play_ some more. Me personally? I _really_ _like_ to play.”

Dennis shakes his head and continues to cry even after Victor releases him. As the teen starts to leave, Zsasz grabs him by the arm and spins him around to face him. He sneers with derision at the boy’s tears and growls.

“If you’re gonna _dish it_ , ya better know how to _take it_.”

He yanks Dennis uncomfortably close to his face and stares him down as he continues admonishing him.

“ _Better_ _watch it, Dennis_. Next time you mess with someone, they could turn out to be like _me_.”

Dennis shakes his head and runs off. As Jim’s nephew passes by, he extends a foot and trips him. The boy unceremoniously falls onto his stomach but makes a quick effort to scramble to his feet. Jim tsks with mock concern.

“You okay? Should watch where you’re going.”

Jim approaches Victor, his eyes roaming all over his body, especially around his bare legs. He can never get enough of Victor's powerful form. He stops in front of his lover, who’s sporting his infamous shark-like grin and takes the end of the borrowed shirt in one hand.

“I got this shirt when I was a freshman in high school. Went to some showing in an old theater that ran a horror movie marathon on Halloween. Why are you wearing this?”

Victor smiles down at Jim, bites his lip and reaches for his waist to pull him close. He leans into his ear.

“My clothes are covered in mac-n-cheese.”

Jim shivers and states in an amused tone.

“That’s some god awful dirty talk.”

Jim doesn't care if someone sees; he gives the casually-dressed assassin a quick kiss. Victor arches an eyebrow at Jim’s display of affection. He pulls Jim closer and gives him a big kiss, reaching for his ass.

Jim reaches for Victor’s crotch and gives him a quick rub. He then peels Victor off of him and makes his way around the corner of the house and back to the grill. The little blonde girl comes back around the corner and approaches Victor.

“Mister Victor, do you want to draw with me? Pretty please?”

Zsasz shrugs.

“Sure. Why not?”

He follows the tiny blonde girl and sits down with her to draw. It isn’t long before other kids join them. After he finishes his drawing, he leaves it on the table with the kids and returns to the house. He’s too late for Edna’s jello, but figures some of her carrot cake might be left. He smiles when he discovers it sitting out and cuts himself an enormous slice. He runs his finger through the cream cheese frosting and slips it in his mouth, before taking a huge bite of the cake, moaning with satisfaction.

Edna comes around the corner and laughs.

“I take it the jello was gone?”

Victor nods as he chews and swallows.

“Mm-hm, it was.” He motions down to the cake. “You’re a _genius_. This is _incredible_ , Miss Edna.”

He takes another bite and leans over to peck her cheek. Edna smiles and winks.

“You’re making the other girls jealous giving me all the attention.”

She peers over at the living room where the others are seated with their desserts, a few of them staring at Victor.

“The girls changed the radio from whatever you had it on. We’s about to head out and see if the men will dance. Do you dance, Victor?”

At that moment, Zsasz hears the slow, dreamy tempo of keyboards, a flute, strings and bar chimes announcing Donna Summer’s wistful intro to “[Last Dance](https://youtu.be/vqZY8P42pLo)”. He loves this song.

“As a matter of fact, I _do_.”

He slowly stretches a wide grin and sets his cake on the table before taking Edna’s hand. 

“ _Last dance_

 _Last chance, for love_ _  
_ _Yes, it's my last chance, for romance, tonight...”_

Victor guides Jim’s aunt down the porch to the middle of the yard. He looks deeply into her eyes and ceremoniously places his hand on her shoulder. He drags it around her back and other shoulder as he dramatically circles her, maintaining constant eye contact with her.

Jim can hear the radio volume increase as he reaches for a cold drink. He opens his bottle and notices as Victor leads his aunt out to the yard. He chuckles and watches on. The rest of the women follow and sit on the porch to watch.

Zsasz guides Edna’s hand behind his back before placing his behind hers. He takes her other hand and begins dancing with the woman. As the next stanza begins, Victor locks eyes with Jim and grins like a Cheshire cat.

_“I need you, by me,_

_Beside me, to guide me,_  
_To hold me, to scold me,_ _  
'Cause when I'm bad, I’m so so bad…_

Victor eyes twinkle anticipating the faster tempo of the next measure. He beams at Edna as he swivels his hips and head from side preparing for it.

_“So let's dance the last dance_

_Let's dance the last dance_

_Let's dance this last dance tonight…”_

Zsasz dramatically grabs Edna and dances her around the yard, regularly returning his gaze to Jim as he does.

_“Yeah_

_Well_

_Will you be my Mr. Right?_

_Can you fill my appetite?_

_I can't be sure that you're the one for me_

_All that I ask is that you dance with me…”_

As the song's climax nears, Victor grasps and raises Edna’s hand to spin her. He reaches for her waist and pulls her into his arms before dipping her close to the ground, timing it perfectly with the song’s ending. Afterwards, he smiles down at Edna before lifting her back to her feet. He lifts her hand and kisses it.

Edna smiles really big. She hasn’t danced like that since her days in college.

“Why Victor, you are one hell of a man.”

Victor wraps an arm around her and pecks her again.

“Well, if don’t mind me saying so, _you_ are one helluva woman.”

Edna nods and looks at the other women.

“Eat it, thirsty girls!”

She throws her head back and laughs, strutting back through the doors. The other women look at Victor expectantly as a few of the men quickly make their way over to retrieve their wives.

Jim laughs and shakes his head. He’s pleasantly surprised by Victor’s attitude and integration amongst the normal people. He then feels reality come creeping back over him. He tries to push down the bad thoughts threatening to put a damper on his good mood. He turns back around to turn off the gas grills and gather up the barbecue utensils as Victor saunters up.

“Your family’s nice, Jim.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t exhausted with it all. They can be trying at times. My aunt Edna seems to like you well enough. She almost never takes to people that quickly. She can be rough around the edges at times.”

Jim hands Victor all the utensils as he grabs the pans.

“Frankly, seeing you see with them feels a bit surreal.”

“Didn’t see this one coming either.”

He glances down at his clothes.

“Now this? (crinkling the side of his face and arching a brow)... _Definitely_ surreal.”

He bumps Jim’s hip with his own. Jim chuckles and looks down at the graphic, then at Victor.

“It oddly suits you.”

Jim starts heading back to the house, casting a long glance at him. Victor looks down at the graphic, smiles sheepishly and nods in agreement.

“Yeah. I guess it kinda does, doesn’t it?”

Zsasz follows Jim into the house to return the utensils to the kitchen. Word has now gotten out about the tea he brought Mrs. Gordon. Jim’s aunts and cousins ask him about it.

As the ladies gather around, Victor explains the tea selection, their various steep times and temperature requirements. He gives brewing tips (like avoiding a longer steep and adding more leaves for stronger tea). Most of them didn’t realize tisanes weren’t actually teas, but herbal mixtures that sometimes include dried fruit. Zsasz also brews the gyokuro and the white tea with lychee for Mrs. Gordon. He chats with the ladies, sips tea, eats desserts and enthusiastically finishes the sweets they don’t.

—

Jim enters the kitchen while Victor mingles with the women. He commences with throwing away all the trash retrieved from around the house. He glances at the gathering in the breakfast nook and grins at how focused all the women are on Victor.

_I’m going to miss this…._

Jim furrows his brow and turns away from the scene. The thought shocks him as it enters his mind. He takes a deep sigh and nods his head as he places a new bag in the trash can.

_Perhaps I’ve known all along that this is it._

Jim turns and notices several drawings on the refrigerator, most of them have smiling faces drawn with cheery primary colors, bright suns, puffy clouds and glitter. Among them, one stark picture in bold black marker stands out. At its center is a large skull, surrounded by combat knives and karambits in each corner. Below the skull is a bold “Z” in red marker. It’s framed by glitter in the shape of an explosion. Jim smiles sadly and leaves to clean up outside.

After another hour, everyone starts filtering out and leaving. All the women make sure to get in a tight hug with Zsasz before they leave. All the kids, minus Dennis, come in to hug him or offer hearty handshakes.

After Victor says goodbye to everyone, he realizes he hasn’t seen Dennis. He walks out the front door sees the teen sitting in the car by himself. He saunters over and plants his forearms on the door of the open window. He rests his head on his forearms stretching a wide, wolfy smile.

“ _Hi_ , Dennis.”

Dennis turns his head and looks to where his parents are standing. He averts his eyes to anything other than the cold blacks eyes drilling into him.

“Saw you sittin’ over here by yourself. Figured you might be lonely and want some company —maybe even _play_ a little more.”

Dennis shuffles to the front of the car and lays his hand on the horn, sounding it loudly to get his parents’ attention. He screeches out the windows.

“Dad!”

Victor sucks his teeth and shakes his head.

“Aww, Dennis. What a party pooper. Guess no more playtime after all.”

Zsasz shrugs and starts to walk off before returning to the teen. He leans towards Dennis and addresses him with chilling menace.

“Oh. For future reference, there’s no way your dad could save you. I’d have you gutted before he even got here.”

Dennis looks on in horror at Victor’s cool and impassive face. He’s unable to respond or move.

“I can already feel the warm spurt of your blood on my hand and see the shock on your face as I slide my blade into you.”

Victor continues, his voice wistful and dreamy.

“I can see you now, struggling to stay alive. Some people? They actually _fight_ to keep their entrails when I reach to yank them out. Others just watch on in shock because they can’t believe it’s actually happening….

I’d _love_ to know which one _you_ are. But…”

Victor glances at Dennis’ parents walking up to the car. The teen starts crying as he balls up at the far end of the passenger seat, hiding his face.

“...I guess I won’t be finding out today.”

He shrugs and winks at Dennis.

“Maybe some other time.”

Victor leaves the teen and approaches his parents, shakes their hands and says goodbye. He smiles broadly and waves back at Dennis before returning to the house.

Jim watches as Victor walks back from the car. He smirks at the exchange between the two.

“I can only imagine what you told that kid.”

Victor shrugs and smiles but volunteers no reply.

After everyone leaves, Irene sits out on the back porch with her tea while Jim and Victor sit in the living room. Victor is draped on the couch still in Jim’s old freshman year sweats shorts and shirt. His abs, hips and legs bare as he watches on at the television screen. Jim gets up and starts walking to the stairs but looks back at him.

Victor clocks Jim through his peripheral vision. The moment he sees Jim head for the stairs, he heads to the porch to say goodnight to his mother.

“I had fun, Mrs. Gordon. Your family's nice.” Victor points a thumb over a shoulder. “I’m about to crash. You need me for anything else?”

Irene looks back at Victor.

“No, hon. You get your rest. Has Jim gone to bed?”

“I think so.”

“You two should sleep in. After all the work you two did, I’ll make us brunch. Have a good night.”

“‘Kay. Night.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who says FC & I can’t make it fluffy?
> 
> My personal faves: Mac-n-cheese, disco dancing with Edna and all those women eye humpin' Victor. 
> 
> For any anyone else out there watchin’ HBO's Barry, I don’t have to explain to you why I had to put my Zsaszy in some shorts. I mean seriously, y’all. Can a girl get knocked up from starin’ at a man’s legs? ‘Cause DAMB! That Anthony Carrigan’s got some smokin' hot ones, y’all. HELLO! 8^) 
> 
> And woah, you guys! Only one more chapter to go!  
> 
> *cue the dramatic music*
> 
> Deya! Hold me!
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> *Feels exhausted from reading this chapter*
> 
> Yeah I RP'ed everyone except Victor (of course). I had tons of fun doing so but, wow, that was a challenge. I love having Victor mingle with the normies. It was fun to have it written in full amazing detail. We joked about this scenario after the "Foxglove" chapter. My favorite moments: Victor letting Dennis's cousins beat the crap out of him, dancing with Edna, and of course Zsasz eating. 
> 
> (Ok, Jess, I know I tend to write spoiler notes at times and have rewritten them all) But if I may, I'm going to say this about the final chapter: The ending had me conflicted!
> 
> There were many conversations and what-ifs I discussed with Jess after we got done with the last RP. The ending has a different vibe than previously rough drafted. I wouldn't change the ending for the world now. It works and I hope you all agree that the finale jives.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far. The next chapter is the emotional conclusion to this tale. ;)
> 
> ~FC


	21. No Matter What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Victor spend the last night at the family home. Jim makes a decision about his ties to Victor.

Victor heads upstairs to the guest bedroom. He toes off his boots and peels off his clothes to shower. After he towels off, he sprawls himself across the bed with one foot flat on the floor. He looks up at the ceiling fan briefly before closing his eyes, _just_ for a second —only to fall asleep.

Jim enters his shower to wash off all the sweat, grill grease, and smoke from his skin. He lets the cool water roll off his head while he thinks about Victor.

_I should end this night on a good note._

He thinks about their little display in the garage. He smiles and finishes washing up. After he puts on his boxers, he runs downstairs and grabs a plastic cup filling it with ice. He quietly enters Victor’s room.

Jim tiptoes to the bedside and watches the sleeping assassin. He smiles, taking in how peaceful (dare he say— _harmless?_ ) his sleeping lover looks. His heart skips a beat as he rakes his eyes over Victor’s graceful and powerful form. Jim hesitates a few more seconds to burn Victor deep into his memory, wanting to store this moment forever in his mind.

He sets the cup down on the nightstand and gingerly makes his way onto the bed but the old mattress springs give him away. Jim cringes as the loud squeaking seems amplified in the quiet room.

When Victor feels the bed shift, he lazily smiles and waits for Jim to join him.

Jim slides next to Victor and takes his face in both hands. He gives him a soft kiss and smiles at him.

“Hey, thought maybe you would like to finish what we started in the garage.”

Victor slowly curls one side of mouth before reaching for Jim.

“Like you even have to ask.”

Jim rolls on top of Victor and kisses from his neck to his abdominals. He then stops to reach over and grab the cup of ice. He shakes it and grins down at Victor, who twitches _just_ a hair and quietly groans with anticipation.

Jim brings the cup to his lips and slides a large cube into his mouth. He swirls it in his mouth allowing it to cool off his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. He comes down and plants a chilly kiss on Victor's stomach. He lets the cube slip out as he pushes it around Victor’s skin with his tongue. He then scoops it back up and works his way down. He starts planting kisses all around Victor’s hips.

Victor loses himself in the icy sensation and Jim’s chilled mouth. He reaches for Jim but stops himself. He closes his eyes and surrenders to whatever the man has in store for him.

Jim glides his left hand up Victor’s body to play with a nipple. His lays his right palm on Victor’s cock and begins to tenderly massage. Once Victor’s length begins to fill, he leans over and lightly flicks his chilled tongue over the head. He then leans in and firmly runs his tongue from his testicles to the tip of his cock.

Victor gently pumps to meet the Jim’s palm as he massages him, but his breath hitches in response to the acute sensation of Jim’s chilly mouth. Once he adjusts to the temperature, he groans and subtly pushes into Jim’s mouth as he runs his fingers through his hair.

Jim gets on his hands and knees, smirking when the bed springs groan and complain. He crawls over Victor and plants an open-mouthed kiss on him. He lets the ice cube transfer to Victor’s mouth. Jim reaches for his own boxers and peels them off never tearing his lips away from Victor’s.

Victor smiles at the fact Jim no longer appears concerned with the squeaking bed springs. He opens his mouth wide and moans into Jim’s mouth as he accepts the sliding cube. Zsasz moves it to store in his cheek because what he really wants is more of Jim’s mouth and his tongue. He pulls the smaller man closer, squeezing him tightly. He softly rocks into Jim, chasing his warmth.

Jim tears himself away from Victor’s mouth and sits up on him. He leans back over to the nightstand and grabs another ice cube. He lets it slide around in his mouth for a bit while he enjoys Victor’s body underneath him.

“Mmm.”

Jim rolls his hips onto Victor a few times as he closes his eyes.

Victor’s brow furrows as he reaches for Jim’s ass. He sinks in his fingers, pulling the man closer. As the warmth between Jim’s thighs encases him, he concentrates on the exquisite friction he _can’t_ stop thinking about and craves _far_ more than he should. He takes in a deep breath and there, just past the smell of Jim’s shampoo and soap, is _that_ smell. _Jim_. His scent. Zsasz’s brow and jaw softens. He looks up and grasps at Jim more fervently.

Jim lightly glides his hands on Victor’s arms and takes his hands. He intertwines their fingers and brings both of their hands out to the sides. He smiles down at Victor and continues to undulate a few more times onto him. His blue eyes never tearing from Victor’s dark eyes as they look up and gaze deeply at him.

Victor mentally follows Jim’s fingers as they traverse is body. He tilts his head and cocks a brow when Jim slots his fingers in between his. The small action seems oddly _personal. Intimate_. Victor’s momentarily unsettled by it. He hesitates for a moment before curling his fingers around the smaller man’s hand and looking up at him. He grasps Jim’s hands more firmly to pull him closer and better feel his hardened cock against his own.

Jim feels himself pulled down and Victor’s fingers untwine from his hand. Jim smirks and obliges him with a kiss. He starts working himself back down Victor's body. Laying his chilled mouth over bare patches of skin without the tally marks. He grabs for the ice cup. He settles over Victor’s erection; he breathes his cooled breath onto his shaft.

He reaches into the cup and grabs another cube in his left hand. In his other hand, he takes Victor’s pulsating cock. Jim gives him a few licks, teasing the head. He spits out the ice and quickly inserts Victor into his mouth. With his left hand, he slowly reaches between Victor’s legs and strokes past his testicles.

Victor’s head pushes back into the bed in response to the chill between his legs. He groans and stutters a little at the sensation, his breath hitching momentarily. His abdominals and thighs start and stop until he adjusts to the temperature. Before long, his hips fall back into their familiar rhythm rocking between Jim’s mouth and hand.

Jim lightly strokes at Victor’s hole with the ice cube that’s still in his left hand. His mouth plunges all the way down. He begins lightly sucking him as he teases Victor with the ice cube on his sphincter. His right hand reaches under and grasps his buttcheek firmly with digging fingers.

Zsasz sucks in a deep breath at the acute temperature behind him, the cold thwarting his ability to latch onto the sensation. His body reflexively thrusts upward into Jim’s mouth. He crinkles a brow and quietly curses.

“Fuck.”

Jim rolls the ice cube in his palm and curls his fingers over it. He releases the cock to take in a deep breath. He gives one long lick from the base to the tip and lets it rest on Victor's body. Once his fingers are thoroughly wet and chilled, he drops the cube to the mattress. He brings his right hand and reinserts Victor into his mouth. The wet chilled fingers of his left hand find his hole and gently rub before slipping an index finger in.

Victor softly curls his fingers into the bedspread as Jim enters him. His finger is so fucking cold; he tightens and clamps around the digit. But just past the cold, immediately after, is the sensation of Jim reaching inside and propelling him further into his mouth. He rocks between the two, seeking the exquisite sensation that’s sure to follow.

Jim hums and sucks as his finger reaches as far as possible into Victor. He slowly lets his cock slip out of his mouth as he focuses on massaging deep inside of him. He slowly inserts another finger as his mouth licks slow wet circles on his nutsack. His right arm hooks under Victor’s left leg as his fingers dig deeper.

Jim can feel his erection throb with the thought of plunging deep into Victor. He’s had really great sex with women, but none have allowed him to enter this way. He looks towards Victor’s face.

Victor moans with the introduction of another finger and Jim’s tongue. He bites his lower lip before lifting his head a little to look down at Jim, stretching a wide grin.

“ _Go ahead_ , Jim. You know you want to  —but I’d prefer some lubrication first.”

He nods Jim to the closet.

“In the garment bag —outside left pocket.”

Jim grins. He slowly removes his fingers and gives Victor’s cock a kiss. He shuffles off the bed, cringing at all the noise. He quickly stands and makes for Victor’s garment bag. He finds the small tube of lube. He turns his head and smiles.

“Always prepared.”

He rushes back and jumps on the bed, causing a ruckus. He shrugs and returns below to Victor’s erection.

Victor smiles as Jim rummages through his garment bag but even more so when he enthusiastically returns to the bed, practically vaulting into it without concern for noise. He puffs out a small laugh.

“Not always. Look what happened to my clothes earl—.”

He stops mid sentence when Jim’s mouth envelops him. Zsasz groans softly and pushes into the detective’s mouth.

Jim chuckles while he slowly works his tongue on the back of his shaft. He lets him slip out so he can remark.

“I think the women and I couldn’t have thought of a more fortunate thing to happen for our _viewing_ pleasure.”

Jim grins at Victor while he opens the tube and lubricates his left fingers. Victor arches a brow.

“I aim to please.”

Jim returns his focus to Victor’s erection by grasping it in his right hand. The fingers of his left hand returning to their place below. He slips a finger back into him, enjoying how tightly Victor’s muscles grab onto him. His own cock twitching and jolting over the anticipation of Victor’s body encasing him. Jim brings his mouth down onto the hardened cock. His tongue praising every inch as he slides it down. Once he is fully flush, he adds a second finger inside of Victor, resuming where he left off.

Zsasz groans when Jim reenters him, even nudging his hips along to help him find _that_ spot, the one that (coupled with his hungry mouth) will send him to oblivion. His hips and thighs twitch with anticipation, momentarily going rigid and stuttering when Jim finds it. He quietly curses.

“ _Fuck._ _There_.”

Jim’s fingers massage in earnest when Victor responds positively to his stroking. He works him as he gives special attention to his cock with firm sucking. His nose pressing deep against him. He slowly adds a third finger, sliding it softly inside. He lets Victor’s erection slip out of his mouth so he can watch his fingers work.

Victor’s lower back muscles and glutes tighten with Jim’s third digit. He slows his breathing and concentrates on relaxing them as Jim continues slipping in and out of him. Once relaxed, he chases the decadent sensation of Jim’s fingers on his prostate. His thighs quiver and perineum tightens as he clamps around his digits. Zsasz looks down and grins.

“Feels good doesn’t it? Like your fingers are being sucked.”

He small grin stretches into a knowing smile. He purrs low and throaty.

“Just wait. It gets even _better_.”

Jim moans with Victor’s throaty statement. He returns to lavishing long licks up and down his shaft. His fingers indeed felt like they are being sucked on and squeezed. He takes Victor all the way back into his mouth. His own erection begging to enter but he tries to focus on pleasuring Victor first. He loves the feel of anticipation, wanting to milk his first experience a bit longer.

He hums and moans as he bobs his head up and down on Victor’s cock. His precum generously coating his mouth. Victor mutters absently as he rocks between Jim’s mouth and fingers.

“ _Fuck_ , Jim.”

Jim releases Victor slowly from his mouth and places two kisses, one on his shaft and one on the head. He sits up while still working his fingers deep inside Victor. After taking all he can, he slips his fingers out. He eagerly grabs for the lube to coat his erection. He massages himself as he looks Victor over; he knows this is going to be fast. The last half of the day he spent staring at Victor’s pert ass in in those tight sweat shorts. He was practically tenting in his jeans; Jim was thankful he had on a long loose t-shirt.

“Can I?”

Victor grins, teasing the detective.

“Can you _what,_ Jim?”

Jim smiles and shakes his head. He lines up his cock to his hole and begins entering slowly. His cock head slowly slips past the muscle ring; Jim shudders and closes his eyes.

“FU———.“

Victor quietly gasps when Jim breaches him. He reaches for the bedspread and curls his fingers into it, thighs tightening. As he feels the drag of Jim’s cock filling him, he moans and quietly curses.

“Fuck.”

Victor takes a deep breath in, before breathing out and slowly inching forward to meet Jim.

Jim slowly inches forward not wanting to hurt Victor but as soon as he feels him thrust into him; he eagerly sinks in deeper. His mind is gone to the feel of Victor’s insides clenching and tightening around him. The pull of his body greedily swallowing him in, ushers out a loud groan. He bites his lower lip, forgetting they can’t be loud. He mildly considers just letting loose and confessing to his mother in the morning the dirty deed they committed in the room.

He shakes his head and reins in his rogue thought. Once he is fully seated, he looks down at Victor and breathes out.

“Victor, oh —fuck!”

Victor groans softly when Jim nudges him, filling him to the hilt. He looks up at Jim and lazily grins.

“See what I mean?”

He bites his lower lip and tilts his head, nodding down at Jim.

“Go ahead, Jim. _Do_ it.”

Jim leans in and places several kisses on Victor’s lips. His licks down to his neck and bites down. Jim's hips start grinding into Victor, hard and slow. He wants to go in deeper and feel his heat forever wrapped around him. He quickly wraps his arms under Victor’s waist to lift his lower body up. He then slowly takes out a few inches and slowly dives back into him. He does this a few more times, relishing the pull and drag on him.

He scoots in closer bringing his legs under Victor’s, his arms still under him to keep him accessible. He sits up and starts pistoning slowly.

Victor languidly surrenders to Jim’s rhythm. As he’s rocked back and forth, his neglected cock holds fast against his body, aching for friction. He reaches to take himself in his hand, biting his lip and shuddering with the contact. He slowly rubs his head, before wrapping his hand around —tugging downward and savoring the first long delicious pull. He moans and gradually begins tossing himself more quickly, each stroke and flick growing shorter and more urgent.

Jim watches as Victor handles himself. His mind cloudy and possessed with the feel of his erection deep inside his body. He starts pounding into him faster, his breathing getting out of control. He smirks and forces himself to pause; Jim brings his arms inside of Victor’s legs to settle under his knees. He lifts Victor’s lower body with his hands clamping down around the front of his thighs. He begins scooting himself and Victor to the edge of the bed. Once he gets to the edge, he slowly gets off the bed, twisting Victor’s body with him. He keeps his arms under his knees to keep his lower body lifted. Jim resumes his task; he wildly starts laying into Victor.

Victor gazes up at Jim and watches him unravel, chasing his pleasure and claiming it. Jim looks wild. _Primal_. Zsasz recognizes the thing he saw inside Jim that night at the fight club and when he killed those traffickers. The same thing inside Victor unfurls and stretches with his mounting pleasure. Victor’s body ripples with Jim’s thrusts and he surrenders to the decadent sensation of Jim stimulating _that_ spot deep inside. He tosses himself more furiously as the exquisite pressure builds and the warmth spreads.

“Jim.”

Jim can’t think of anything other than the tight heat enveloping him, his body automatically pounding into his lover. He snaps out of his haze and looks down at Victor. His face red and his eyes cloudy, lost in the fog of his own desire. It’s in that moment that Jim finds no one else so utterly perfect as Victor; the feel of his body, the sound of his voice and the level of intimacy he can't ever seem to get enough of. He can feel himself about to blow; but before he does, he gasps out.

“Fuck —you’re _everything…_ ”

Victor furiously pumps and is soon overcome by his twitching muscles that begin wildly constricting... before that flash and the inevitable tumbling over... falling... bursting all over his hand... himself... Jim...

“Jim… _Fffuck…_ ”

Jim explodes deep inside, his hips still ramming Victor but they slow to a stutter when he nears the end of his orgasm. He’s struggling for breath as he grinds into Victor to savor the last few pulses of his release.

He lets Victor’s legs go and falls down on top of him. He caresses his face with one hand as he nudges his face into Victor’s neck.

“Holy fuck —that….was amazing.”

Victor wraps his arms around Jim, before pecking the top of his head and chuckling softly.

“Yeah it was.”

Jim carefully removes himself from Victor and kisses his neck.

“Shall we go clean up?”

Victor idly puffs out a laugh.

“Yeah. Probably. I’d feel bad if we left the room the way we left Harvey’s office. I mean, we’re talking about your _mom_.”

Jim scoffs and lifts up onto his palms to loom over Victor.

“I had to deal with the aftermath, just so you know.”

Jim gets up and heads to the guest bathroom to start the shower. Victor slowly gets off the bed and finds Jim’s clothes he wore earlier. He tosses them on the bed with the soiled linens before joining Jim in the shower.

Jim smiles as Victor shuffles into the shower with him. He grabs the bar of soap and begins washing himself, his heart suddenly heavy. His mind constantly teetering on the thought that this weekend is the last one for him and Victor. Jim wants to tell him but he also wants to enjoy this one last night with him.

He swallows and smiles as he turns his attention back to the man behind him. He wants Victor to know that the connection he feels for him is real, at least to him. Even if Victor cannot or will not accept him completely.

Victor reaches around Jim’s neck, leans down and and pulls him in for a deep kiss. He smiles as he pulls back and gazes back down at Jim. It’s then that Zsasz recognizes the look in his eyes and expression on his face. It’s the same one he had on the rooftop and at the cabaret. He blinks at the realization.

_Jim’s gonna run._

He suddenly recalls Jim’s words before they left for the weekend.

_“I’m not going to pretend that everything between us will remain as is.”_

Victor’s brow furrows at the pang in his gut; his hands suddenly go cold.

 _It’s over_ ,  _Zsasz._

He briefly clenches his jaw and soberly nods once, before taking a breath and reverting to his customary nonchalance. He tilts his head and smirks, his tone suggestive.

“So, you gonna let me have any of that soap or you keepin’ it all for yourself?”

Jim smiles as he lathers the soap in his hands. He begins to wash Victor, casting his eyes down to avoid looking him in the eye. He wants to burn every curve and twist of the killer’s body into his mind forever (not that it wasn’t already). He desperately needs one last night to caress him, to hold him and even if Victor doesn’t want to listen, to confess. Jim looks up briefly and smiles.

“Mind if we sleep in tomorrow? Unless you need to head back early.”

Victor pulls Jim for a soft embrace and nudges his ear.

“I’d love to.”

Jim smiles gratefully up at Victor and resumes washing him. After they’re done, he shuts off the water and enters the bedroom in his towel to retrieve the soiled linens. He exits the room and notices all the lights are off downstairs; his mother has gone to bed already. He quickly puts the sheets in the washer and starts the cycle.

He hurries back upstairs and retrieves a new set of linens; they redress the bed. Jim climbs into the fresh sheets and holds them open inviting Victor in.

“Bring that sexy ass here.”

Victor makes his best attempt at a broad, easy smile before slipping into bed beside Jim. He lies on his back looking up at the ceiling before wrapping an arm around the smaller man and holding him tightly in the crook of his arm.

Jim notices the odd smile. He leans over Victor on an elbow and studies the man’s face for a second.

“I would ask if you had fun this weekend, but judging by what I’ve seen I would assume that is a yes.”

Victor idly puffs out a small laugh, nodding.

“Yeah. Your family’s nice, Jim… Well, maybe not Dennis.”

Jim lets out a hearty chuckle and sits up to lean against the headboard.

“I think you either scared him straight or he’s going to become a serial killer later.”

Jim lets out a soft sigh and continues.

“Edna pulled me aside and threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t give her your phone number. She wants you to come visit her horse ranch one day. Sorry, you’re stuck with her now.”

Victor shakes his head dismissively at the thought of Dennis as a serial killer. The teen lacked the required constitution for that sort of thing. He was all talk.

_Now, that little curly-haired blonde girl..._

Zsasz screws up his face and tries to imagine a horse ranch and what one might do at such a place, before thinking about Jim’s aunt, Edna. He chuckles softly before peering back up at Jim.

“She’s a nice lady. I’ve been stuck with worse.” Victor looks around sheepishly. “I mean… (shrugging)... I _do_ work for Penguin.”

Jim nods as his smile slips from his face. He takes a deep breath and looks down at Victor.

“Victor, uh…”

Jim shakes his head and smiles; his internal thought pushed aside. He wants to confess many things to Victor, but insteads puffs out a labored breath and chuckles.

Victor briefly looks away before taking a deep breath and returning Jim’s gaze, sighing.

“What _is_ it, Jim?”

Jim’s smile fades once again but it’s replaced with a softened brow and a deep gaze.

“Victor, whatever happens to us in the future, I….(takes a deep breath) I want you to know that despite how adamant I was to get rid of you in the beginning…(a smile) I’m glad now that I let you into my life. Even if, and when, we are staring at each other down the barrel of a gun or...whatever. I want you to know what I feel for you is deeper than anything I’ve felt before...for _anyone._ ”

Jim holds Victor’s gaze.

Victor furrows his brow and slightly screws up his mouth at Jim’s words, overwhelmed by the pangs in his chest and gut. He’s staggered to find himself at the mercy of emotions he no longer thought himself capable of —not since becoming the current version of himself. Zsasz not only finds himself feeling things he _used to_ feel many years ago, but feeling them _acutely_.

He rubs his index finger and thumb together briefly before daring to do something he was unwilling to do earlier. He reaches for Jim’s hand and entwines their fingers together. He stares down at them and puffs out a sigh, his reply resolute.

“Me too.”

Jim stares at their connected hands; the smooth pale skin against his tan. His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest; he’s sure that Victor can feel its manic rhythm through their intertwined fingers. He peers back into his lover’s dark scanning eyes.

He doesn’t want to hurt Victor, but the only way he knows how to prevent that is to let him go. The last thing he wants to do is put Victor in a position to choose between their precarious relationship or his life as the man he has become. Also, there is no way they could ever be open with their love affair. Everyday would be another day lived with more lies.

Jim only knows one thing, that what he feels for the man next to him is _real_.

He slips back down and returns to Victor’s arm. He lays his head in the crook of Victor’s neck and takes in a long breath. He says with firm confidence as he squeezes Victor’s hand.

“This thing between us is still the worst thing to have happen to us but also the _best thing_.”

Victor looks down at Jim and caresses the side of his face, following the descent of his hand before returning his gaze. He struggles to keep his smile easy before holding Jim’s chin and kissing him, uncertain of how else to respond.

Jim returns his kiss, deeply inhaling subtle hints of clean skin mingling with personal pheromones. Jim smiles and lets out an appreciative moan. He pulls away and lays his head on Victor’s chest. He begins to lightly trace a few tally marks with the index finger of his free hand; he then realizes something and sits up.

“You need to mark me for tonight.”

Jim smiles; he opens his legs and looks down at the swollen marks on his inner thigh.

Victor puffs out a small bitter laugh as Jim looks down at his sliced thigh. He clenches his jaw and presses his lips together as he nods painfully, relieved that Jim’s gaze is elsewhere. He softly runs his fingers through Jim’s hair, appreciating how it feels without product and the way the detective looks when he’s _not_ put together.

Before Jim turns to face him, Zsasz laughs again. This time, he manages to make it sound lighter, _easier_. Victor lowers and stretches his tone to the timbre for which he’s known: sly and sexual. Low and throaty.

“I _do_ , don’t I?”

He nods towards his garment bag, looking forward to one more opportunity to intimately observe Jim without his knowledge.

“Inside my garment bag.”

Jim rolls on top of Victor. He smiles down at him before planting a soft kiss on his lips. He again notices a subtle rigidness to Victor during the exchange.

Jim gets up and heads to the bag. He finds the boxcutter and examines it a few moments before turning back around.

_We will never complete this set._

Jim fingers the hard metal sheath and the lever that extends and retracts the blade.

_I’m keeping this._

Jim takes a hard swallow as his chest tightens. He wants to explain to Victor they must end things; staying together would only bring ruin to them both. There are simply too many factors against them, but Jim fears the decision could be met with a severe response. Victor is, above all else, a sadistic killer. He knows he took things too far especially now that Victor has profoundly given himself to him. Jim knows the rejection could result in dire consequences; to tell Zsasz _now_ could jeopardize his mother.

He takes in a deep quiet breath and heads back to the bed, but stops in the middle of the room.

“We should probably do this on the floor.”

He manages a large grin as his gaze steadies on Victor.

Victor’s smile is easier this time. He manages to puff out a soft laugh, this one warmer, _sincere_ even. He rolls over to his side and drinks in the sight of Jim standing with his favorite boxcutter. His grin stretches wider. He even flashes his teeth.

“We probably _should_.”

Victor keeps his eyes locked with Jim’s as he slowly rises from the bed and stalks up. Once face-to-face with him, he reaches for the back of his neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

Jim wraps his arms around Victor’s neck to deepen the kiss, sliding his body up onto him. He pulls back and brings up the boxcutter, sliding the blade out. He offers it to Victor and slowly descends to the floor. He looks up at the towering naked man with an expectant look.

Victor’s brow softens as he savors the fleeting warmth of Jim’s body. He looks down and watches spellbound as Jim handles his boxcutter, slowly sliding the blade out. Not only has he never used it on anyone but himself (besides Jim), but he’s never allowed anyone else to touch it.

_Only Jim._

He gazes down as Jim sinks to the floor on his haunches, legs outstretched and offering himself freely, willingly, without hesitation or question —so unlike how this whole fucking thing between them began.

Victor takes his boxcutter from Jim’s hand and descends to meet him. He caresses Jim’s face and softly kisses him before turning to his inner thigh. He slowly drags his finger pads across the previous night’s cuts still struggling to mend before lining up the blade with them.

The flesh on Jim’s thigh and backside are still raw and tender; his jaw tightens. He knows that this mark is going to be excruciating. The feel of Victor’s fingers on his previous slices makes his jaw clench tight. He looks on as Victor brings the blade down.

_This one is going to hurt like hell._

Zsasz briefly looks back into Jim’s eyes before stretching a slow smile at the inevitable pierce of the blade. He breathes in deeply through his teeth before the puncture and the feel of Jim’s flesh giving way. He slowly carves as he counts the incision, this one longer and deeper than those from the previous night.

“ _Nineteen…_ ”

Jim gasps and lets out a small whimper as the metal sinks in. His whole body trembling on the slow drag of the blade. He watches as the cut begins to trickle blood. His red inflamed thigh a beacon of four tally marks. He mentally laments that he will forever be unfinished. He brings a finger to his fresh slice, catching the weeping blood.

Zsasz looks down at the beautiful incision and its beading blood, anticipating its inevitable descent. Just as he reaches to capture it, Jim beats him to it. He watches the man’s finger gather it, slightly smearing it. He reaches for Jim’s hand and guides his finger into his mouth. Zsasz softly moans, savoring what he’s certain will be his last taste of Jim.

Jim watches as his blood-covered finger disappears into Victor’s mouth. The hot wet space inside of Victor he can never get enough of. He closes his eyes enjoying the feel of soft scraping teeth and the slow wiggle of tongue as it collects all of his blood.

Jim opens his eyes when he feels his finger released. He scoots in closer to Victor and holds his face in both of his hands. He reaffirms his status to his lover while gazing deeply into his eyes.

“I’m _yours_.”

Victor can no longer school his face. He struggles in vain to halt the various micro expressions flash across it, revealing the dizzying cocktail of emotions he can scarcely identify but acutely feels. He clenches his jaw before drawing Jim close in a futile attempt to obscure his face. He tightly holds the smaller man and struggles to reply, his whisper barely audible and racked with emotion.

“Me too.”

Jim’s chest is painfully tight; his throat slams shut as Victor holds him close. He takes in a long ragged breath, the expressions on Victor’s face too much for him; he’s never seen him like this. When he hears the thin whisper, he breaks.

Jim holds Victor tighter; a couple of tears roll down his face. He adds with a whisper of his own.

“ _No matter what_...”

Jim takes a deep breath and does his best to get a hold of himself. He’s now warring in his own head about his decision to let Victor go even though he knows it’s for the best.

Victor gently rocks the smaller man, before softly sighing and whispering in his ear.

“ _I know_.”

Jim pulls back and smiles; he gives Victor a quick kiss and stands, holding his hand out to help him up. Jim pulls him back to the bed with him as he slides back into the sheets.

“I don’t want the weekend to end, but if we are driving three hours we should probably get some sleep.”

Victor grins.

“We _should_... (shrugging and softly chuckling)... but since when do you and I do what we _should_ do with one another?”

Jim rolls on his stomach and fluffs the pillow under his head and smiles.

“True.”

Victor slides in close to Jim and runs his hand through his hair, before softly dragging his fingers down his high taper. He smiles at the way the short hairs tickle his finger pads, reminiscent of velvet. He lazily drags his palm across Jim’s shoulders, studying the definition of his traps and tracing the spine of his scapula with his fingertips. He slowly rubs Jim’s back before circling the small of it with his fingertips where his other incisions lie.

Zsasz returns his hand back to Jim’s shoulders, leans in and kisses his head.

Jim quickly finds himself nodding off with Victor’s touch. His eyes crack open with the kiss but they close again.

Victor silently watches as Jim drifts off to sleep. He waits for the detective’s breathing to stretch into long deep breaths before settling in and drawing his body close to Jim’s. He fingers his taper and kisses his forehead. He studies his long nose, that jaw, chin and _that fucking mouth_.

Before Victor drifts off to sleep (and _only_ because he knows Jim can’t hear him, because _this_ is the end for them, because Jim’s running and _not_ coming back this time), he quietly whispers at the sleeping man’s face.

“No matter what, Jim. I’m _yours._ ”

Zsasz draws Jim’s body closer and nuzzles him. He drapes an arm and a leg over Jim and reluctantly drifts to sleep.

_____________

The next morning around nine, Jim wakes before Victor and slowly crawls out of the bed. He quickly retrieves Victor’s boxcutter that’s laying on the nightstand. He slips into his room and opens a drawer; he stashed another boxcutter there after the first night. He slips back into Victor’s room; he’s still softly snoring. Jim deposits the replacement back in Victor’s garment bag and silently exits the room.

He heads back to his bedroom to pack. He dresses quickly and heads downstairs; his mother is awake. He gives her a hug and and kiss.

Irene smiles and says.

“How did you and Victor sleep last night?”

Jim raises an eyebrow at her but chuckles and shakes his head.

“Good. He’s still asleep.”

“You two hanging around for some breakfast?”

Jim shrugs.

“I guess we can. We would have to make it quick. I have to go back to work later this afternoon.”

Irene smiles and reheats some of the leftover food and makes a batch of coffee and tea. She and Jim have all the food on the table to graze on while they sip on their hot drinks. Victor eventually ambles into the kitchen and smiles sheepishly.

“Morning. I hope I didn’t keep you two waiting long.”

Irene smiles and shakes her head.

“Help yourself, hon. We’re just enjoying last night’s leftovers.”

Jim smiles at Victor over his coffee cup and says after a sip.

“I was thinking we would leave here in the next hour. I have things to do and then I have to head to work.”

Victor soberly nods back at Jim before offering a small smile.

“Sure.”

Zsasz tilts his head and smiles sheepishly at Jim’s mom, biting his lower lip.

“ _Please_ tell me there’s still some of Edna’s carrot cake left.”

Irene winks and heads to the fridge. She produces two slices wrapped with plastic wrap on a paper plate.

“She squirreled it away just for you.”

Victor can’t hide his enthusiasm. His eyes widen and his smile stretches impossibly wide at the promise of Edna’s cake. He quickly rips off the plastic wrap and immediately digs into it, not even bothering to find a fork and eating it with this hands. He’s already well into the second slice before he sheepishly looks up, remembering himself. He looks to the side and replies with a mouthful of cake, his expression somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. Did anybody want any?”

Jim shakes his head and forks in a large piece of sausage into his mouth. Irene chuckles as she heads back to her seat.

“Nope, all yours! Oh, I almost forgot. Let me get it before you two take off.”

Irene rushes to her bedroom and comes out with a folded garment. She holds it up and shows Victor.

“I knitted this lace prayer shawl; it’s how I pass the time. Please, take this one to your bubbie as a gift. I hope she’s okay with black.”

Victor blinks in stunned silence at the gift. He rests a hand on his chest, before bowing his head and accepting it. He leans into Mrs. Gordon and graciously kisses her cheek before he replies, struggling for words.

“Thank you, Mrs. Gordon.” Zsasz nods absently. “She’ll love it.”

He envelops her in a warm embrace.

Jim watches on; he feels secure in knowing that Victor would never hurt his mother to get at him no matter what now. Though he knows Victor is a man of his word, he still harbors uneasiness at him knowing his family members.

After they eat, Jim heads upstairs to retrieve his small suitcase and other items. Victor follows him up to get his stuff from the guest bedroom.

Jim looks around his bedroom then turns his gaze back out his open bedroom door. He can hear Victor collecting his things. His heart starts to beat hard; he needs just one more moment with him, before he’s gone from his life —forever. He drops the bag on the floor and marches straight into the guest bedroom.

Victor zips up and latches his garment bag together after reverently tucking the prayer shawl into it. He turns to face Jim when he hears him enter.

Jim rushes to Victor and wraps his arms around his neck. He plants a rough kiss on him that slowly melts into a soft exchange. He pulls back and looks into his eyes.

Victor wraps his arms tightly around Jim’s waist, moaning softly when their mouths meet. He gently rocks the smaller man and reluctantly releases him, knowing he’s saying goodbye _—not_ _just_ to this place, or Jim’s mom, but to _Jim_ (even though Jim would never admit it). Zsasz works hard to school his face and stretch the easy smile he’s famous for.

Jim places his hand on Victor’s chest; he can feel his heart beating fast. Jim’s throat begins closing again coupled with the familiar tightness in his chest. He clears his throat.

“It’s time to go.”

Jim pulls away and heads back to retrieve his bag and make his way downstairs. Victor grabs his garment bag and slings it over his shoulder as he descends the stairs to say goodbye to Mrs. Gordon.

Irene envelops Victor in a big hug and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“I sure hope to see you again, Victor. You are such a joy to know!”

Victor’s surprised at how difficult it is to say goodbye to Jim’s mom. He leans down to kiss her cheek before smiling down at her warmly.

“I’d like that too, Mrs. Gordon. I had fun. Thanks for inviting me. Jim’s lucky to have you.”

Irene smiles and pats his cheek softly.

“Stay safe out there on the job, sweetie.”

Jim comes in to hug and kiss his mother goodbye. Irene walks the men out of the house and to their cars.

Jim gives Victor a final glance after he throws his bag in the trunk of his sedan. A half-hearted smile is all he can muster; he promptly gets into his car. He pulls out of the driveway and begins making his way back to Gotham.

During the trek on the long stretch of highway back towards the city. Jim can’t help but periodically look in his rearview mirror to glance back at Victor, maintaining a few cars distance from him.

_Once I get into town. I will have to put his number on block. If I don’t then I will be tempted to answer his calls or texts. I’ll also have to move; I’ll look for a new place as soon as I can._

On the drive back, Victor’s struck by the fact the drive back seems longer than the trip to did. He always thought the anticipation of arriving at a destination made the journey seem longer. This time, curiously, it’s the reverse. The longer he stares at the back of Jim’s sedan and the closer they get to Gotham, the harder it gets.

Zsasz eventually recognizes the exit for the motel where he and Jim stopped. He smiles bitterly. Not long after, he decides to take an alternate route to the Van Dahl estate rather than follow Jim all the way back to Gotham. He exits a few miles past the motel. As he does, he forces himself to continue looking forward at the road ahead and _not_ back to Jim’s sedan.

Jim notices that Victor takes an exit and speeds off down a long road. He clenches his jaw tight and takes a deep breath. He keeps his eyes forward, despite the tightness in his chest and the myriad of emotions threatening to do him in.

After twenty miles, the gloomy skyline of Gotham becomes visible. He takes a few deep breaths and grimly accepts his decision to cut Victor out of his life.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. This ending gutted me, too. 
> 
> I mentioned in my chapter notes for “I’m Yours” that it (along with this one) are my faves. As FC mentioned in other notes, we initially began this story with the intention of making a porny slash fic. 
> 
> Well, things obviously didn’t turn out that way, did they?
> 
> This tale turned out to be far more complex and emotionally rich than I ever imagined. The fact that something so meaningful happened between two emotionally repressed men from such different worlds makes it even more beautiful and tragic. I also never dreamed I’d be plumbing the emotional depths I did with Victor. 
> 
> When FC & I discussed endings, I suggested we didn’t really have to finish the story by “ending” it, that we could just “stop” it with no resolution. I did so because I’m a pragmatist. I knew there was no way we could “finish” Jim and Victor’s story completely without the ending we gave it.
> 
> Neither FC nor I are ones for happy endings or fluff, but even *I* was seriously tempted by the thought of seeing these two ride off into the sunset together. I just don’t believe there’s any way these two could make it work —not unless Victor or Jim gave up the very things that make them who they are. I also believe in my heart of hearts that neither Jim nor Victor would willingly sacrifice who they are and how they define themselves for the other, despite how deeply they feel about one another. 
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ————
> 
> I agree with Owl 100% on how these two have reached an impasse with their relationship. I wrote that Jim realized this long before things got too serious but being that he is a reckless sort of man, he ignored his better judgement.
> 
> Jess and I had a serious long text convo over the ending and if it even needed one. I explained to her; being who I am, I would love at least for the immediate conflict to be resolved. Now, whether or not these two will let how things ended affect their career and possible future conflicts--shrugs. I think that is where you, the reader, can draw your own conclusions.
> 
> We love heartbreak. I think I love it a bit more than Jess does. OH MAN, did I get blasted by her on "Moving On" fic where I killed Zsasz off. hehehe =)
> 
> I have gone the sort of happy ending route twice. But for the most part those endings ain't fluffy but they do feel good. The ending of this fic on the rough draft was completely different in a way. There was no internal chaos in Jim when we RPed the last chapter. I actually went back and added all the internal battles he had about being with Victor after Jess and I texted our thoughts about the ending. Especially after I wrote the parts with Harvey and Jim talking at his birthday party. I needed to go back and make Jim's mental distress worsen as the fic goes on.
> 
> Yeah, I get it. Jim ghosting Victor is sort of shitty but given how far Jim allowed their relationship to go and where they were. I think ghosting a sadistic killer till they are back in Gotham was probably for the best. Jim will deal with that shit on his own terms without putting his mother in danger. So that being said, I am making a spin-off. It won't be as long as this. In fact I kind of want it to be a quarter the size of this fic. It follows only Jim, as he becomes a vigilante. Yes, he is after Oswald and doing his best to stay clear of Zsasz. =)
> 
> You know for a fucking crack ship this fucking pairing ripped my heart and soul a new one. FUCK, they are almost too perfect for each other. Two detached men on different sides of the law, though Jim skirts the line often. I found Zsasz to be much more stable in regards of knowing himself and being at peace with it. Jim should be in Arkham to be honest hahah Or Black Gate. Dude is highly unstable but he gets fucking results. Not the best results but he gets it done. ahah =) I found the odd sort of Yin and Yang between their personalities interesting as well. Zsasz: carefree, playful, affable and pure unadulterated gleeful killer. Jim: suspicious, careful, high strung and remorseful good guy doing bad things. Well... that is how I SEE it. 
> 
> I think Jim (more me) refrained from telling Zsasz exactly how he felt because this comes with too many what ifs for Jim. What if Zsasz told him to stop being a cop? What if he asked him to join him? I think Jim was teetering. Teetering so damn hard that one little nudge would send him falling deeper into the abyss. He would fight giving up who he is and in turn he would ask Zsasz to meet him half way. It's a damn domino effect of things getting too intricate and too highly charged. I think one of them would snap and kill the other in a heat of passion.
> 
> So in my mind it was best for Jim to avoid it all. *shrugs*
> 
> Thank you for reading and if you want to rant---bring it! I would love to chat it up with you =)
> 
> ~FC

**Author's Note:**

> Woah! You’re still reading? If so, T H A N K you! No joke. Really. Deya and I are thrilled you took this journey with us —especially with a crack ship like Jim Gordon and Victor Zsasz (GorZsasz/Jisz)!
> 
> “Boxcutter” started with an idea to write a hot/steamy/smutty/porny/slash fic thingie, largely inspired by tumblr’s JokesterWrites, belathora and dalishwolfhound and their Gordon/Zsasz stuff. However, it turned out to be surprisingly complex story with emotional depths we never anticipated (even with all the porn xD).
> 
> This collab was an incredible experience for me and would have never happened without FC: the Jim to my Victor, the Ernie to my Bert, the yin to my yang. Thanks to her encouragement, reassurance, creativity, *instigation* (snickering) and forcing me outside of my comfort zone time and time again, this thing would have never been possible. 
> 
> We also began this collab during a very difficult time for me when my mother became gravely ill and passed away. FC’s support and encouragement were a tremendous comfort to me. She continues to be a source of tremendous joy and laughter for me (not to mention an amazing human being, as well as a ridiculous enabler and encourager of my Zsasz obsession and filthy mindedness)!
> 
> I’ve said it a few times before, but I’ve gotta say it again: I love the h3ll outta you, Deya! You are the wind beneath my wings and sh!t, gurl! :D
> 
> -o- }8>
> 
> ——
> 
> Yay! To tell you the truth, I forgot how all this started. I remember Jess linking me some really nice Jim/Zsasz fics and I was blown away by the coupling. I mean come on, two men who live by the gun but for very different reasons?? I found this contrasting pair worth diving into! 
> 
> I don’t remember who approached who but damn glad we decided to give it a go. When we were deciding who will be who, I told her that her Zsasz is amazing and that she should be the one to pilot him. She still thinks there are others that are better at capturing him and I always flip the proverbial table when she says such things.
> 
> This story took us a very—long—time to complete into what you see now. It was months of rough drafts, role-plays, and edits. And the way she and I clicked while handling all the processes was uncanny. Almost—SCARY. But fuck, we had some fun! 
> 
> I did have to set some ground rules for the RP sessions only because she didn’t have experience. Also, another reason for how long this took was because I suck at writing correct tenses. She schooled me in writing in the present tense and also comma usage, semicolons and learning to write lean.
> 
> I’m a long-winded bitch and I tend to use too many words to convey the same idea that she can expertly tailor down into one sentence.
> 
> I’ve learned a lot because this magnificent woman stopped and took a chance on me. I feel blessed, humbled even, by her instruction and most importantly her friendship.
> 
> She is the loveable and deadly Zsasz to my impetuous and yearning Jim.
> 
> ~FC


End file.
